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theycallmequeenie · 2 years ago

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A Very Happy Christmas

A/N: Sorry, this has taken me so long to write. It’s been a chaotic week or so. My mother has kept me busy working on making this a good Christmas for my nephew and I guess trying to keep our minds off this being our first Christmas without my grandmother, her mother. So yeah, finally got some time to myself that I can sit and focus on writing. Hope you enjoy this one.

With love, Queenie.

Warning: This will contain terribly written smut that will most likely be out of character for our cherished Happy. Please proceed with caution. There will be talk of unprotected intercourse in this fic. Please always wrap it before you tap it, unless you are in a committed relationship and KNOW beyond a shadow of a doubt both consenting parties are clean. This ends my PSA portion of this warning. (Hopefully this will get me comfortable with writing smut for this character so it can be included in one of the Lexie and Happy chapters.)

Master List

Y/N had had a hard year. She ended up moving into a small California town that reminded her of ‘Mainstreet America’. It was almost all family owned and operated everything except for the police station, which was run by the county, and the local garage, that was run by the town’s motorcycle club, the Sons of Anarchy.

It was early spring when Y/N moved into her small home in the quiet town. As she was settling herself in her new hometown, she would occasionally bump into the members of the MC here and there. She would always offer each member a kind smile and she would usually receive a nod in return from each man.

It had been eight weeks since moving in that Y/N was nose deep in her grocery list and not paying attention when she literally ran into one of the leather clad men. On instinct she automatically starts apologizing before even looking up to see which one she had run into. Fortunately for Y/N, she had run into one of the friendlier men who introduced himself as Tig.

Tig did his best to calm the stammering and flustered Y/N down as she had heard enough from the other townsfolk to know what the Sons were and had been told by most to avoid their bad side. After many failed subtle attempts to calm her he finally out of desperation raised his voice to her and clapped a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Doll! Look it’s okay really. I get it, we were both in our own little world instead of paying attention to the world around us. If you are that upset and intent on making it up to me, why don’t you come out to TM tonight for a party. We always enjoy having a pretty face around…”

Y/N blushed at his invitation and tried to refuse saying she didn’t really belong there, but Tig ended up insisting and ultimately winning out. He offered her a smile and a wink before going on his way.

Later Y/N was in her home getting ready for what she expected to be an uncomfortable evening of being a wall flower at a MC party. Questioning why she even let the blue-eyed man talk her into going in the first place. She sighed to herself, shook her head as she finished dressing, and got ready to go.

Y/N went to the party at the clubhouse and surprisingly enjoyed herself she got to know some of the members and was invited back for the next party at the clubhouse to which she willingly agreed and attended.

This became Y/N’s weekly routine for several weeks, from late spring into the summer and into the early fall. In the early fall she was asked to start working in the office of the garage when the woman who had been working quit leaving the club in a bind.

This led to Y/N spending every day and most evenings including the Friday night parties, which she started spending talking to some of the members she had become friends with mainly Tig and another member called Chibs who was the President of the club, who enjoyed telling her the history of the club, or as much of it as he could tell an outsider at least.

Some more weeks pass and before everyone knows it it’s the Friday before Christmas and everyone was rushing around the garage trying to complete last minute plans and things before that night’s party. Y/N had been in the office until late in the evening, focused on the paperwork that needed to be finished not noticing the club’s festivities had already begun around her. Nor had she noticed the club Sargent at Arms slipping quietly into the office to see why she had yet to join them.

Happy Lowman was a quiet man in nature, he was more actions than words type. He knew that Y/N was alone in the world and that’s why she had moved to Charming. To get away from all those memories. Happy did his best to keep his distance from her as he didn’t want to complicate things for either of them, but the few times he had gotten close to her he could almost feel the sadness that rolled off her. And while he was told on many occasions that he was heartless; it wasn’t true and being around Y/N proved it to him and every other person who saw them interact.

Happy was concerned when he had noticed that Y/N wasn’t partying with the rest of the club and it’s hang-arounds, he was secretly relieved to see that she had let herself get engulfed in the paperwork in the Teller-Marrow office. He had feared she had snuck away to her lonely little home to avoid all the ruckus that was going on across the clubhouse.

He stood for a few moments waiting to see if Y/N would notice him on her own, he didn’t want to startle her, but she wasn’t looking up or paying attention to anything but the forms in front of her. He stood a few steps away from her desk and gently cleared his throat with a soft growl before tapping lightly on the desk.

Y/N jumped lightly at the unexpected sound but on realize who the sound came from she offered up a small, sad smile, “Oh, Hap I’m sorry I didn’t notice you come in. I guess I got too engrossed in this mess…” Y/N gestured to pile of papers on the desk. Y/N did everything she could to ignore the little flutter in her chest, thinking it was from him startling her, not just him.

“I noticed.” He replied in his gruff tone but offered her a half smile to show her he was joking before perching himself on the edge of the desk next to her making sure to keep her undivided attention. “I noticed you weren’t at the party and got worried. I thought you skipped out on us this week.” He frowned gently as he finished his statement, the thought of her being alone in general didn’t sit right with him.

Y/N shook her head, “No haven’t skipped out yet, I wanted to get this all taken care of before I left for the night.” For some reason her voice was softer than normal, and she wasn’t sure why.

Hearing her all but admit she wasn’t planning on joining them for their party tonight upset Happy and in response he instinctively stiffened and pulled away from her form a moment getting up to stomp around the office pacing trying to form an argument that would convince her to stay with the club, with him tonight.

“So, you were planning on leaving without going to the clubhouse tonight. You tired of us already, Y/N?” he tried to hide his face from her as he spoke, he knew it had to be contorting in anger. Or at least he thought it was anger because he was definitely not hurt at the thought of her wanting to be alone instead of with the club or him. He almost rolled his eyes at himself for thinking like this

Y/N frowned and shook her head, “Hap, I’m not in the right headspace for all of that tonight.” She paused and gestured toward the clubhouse. “Those people in there want to have a good time and they want to have fun and well Tig is in that mix, so you know at least one of them wants sex.” She chuckled dryly and is joined by Happy who knows his brother all too well. “Happy, I just don’t want to bring any of them down, including you. I’m not in a people friendly mood.”

This time Happy growled louder this time, and his annoyance showed not only in his growling but on his face too. Y/N noticed his expression on his face and tensed up, which he noticed and started mentally kicking himself. The last thing he wanted was her on the defensive.

Standing Y/N rested her hands on the edge of the desk, “Look Happy, I don’t know what you want…”

Before Y/n could complete the thought Happy closed the space between them and backed Y/N against the wall of the small office, boxing her in with his strong tan arms. His horse voice harsh but quiet enough for only Y/N to hear, “You.”

Y/N looked up at Happy, eyes wide from the surprise of his confession. “Hap….”

Happy didn’t let her speak further, before she knew it his lips were on hers and his tongue was making its way into her mouth to dance with her tongue. Y/N placed her hands on his chest not to stop him, instead seeking another point of contact, Happy took an arm and placed it around her waist pulling her flush against him. He lets out a possessive growl as he kisses down her neck. And slips his hand under Y/N’s shirt wanting skin to skin contact resting his hand in the small of her back and gently started directing her toward the couch that was against the wall of the office.

Y/N started to lightly push against his chest, wanting him to pause his actions only momentarily.

Happy took a step back with an almost hurt expression flashing across his face and he watched hers for a clue as to why she would stop him.

As she caught her breath her cheeks flushed and her voice shook, “Hap, as much as I am all for this,” she paused to gesture between the both of them, “to happen… Could it maybe not happen here in the office? I’m not really an exhibitionist and I’d prefer to not have your brothers walk in on us in the act, so to speak….”

Y/N watched Happy, knowing he wasn’t a man of many words hoping he would vocalize a response and not just storm off like she had witnessed him do in the garage prior to the moment. He had no plans on storming off this time.

Happy cleared his throat, “So you’re not saying, ‘No, stop completely’ you’re saying, ‘No, not here’, correct?” Happy watched Y/N closely for any hint of hesitation when she responded. There was none when she nodded confirming his thought process. He spoke again, “And you aren’t saying ‘no not now’ right?” Again, he searched her face and again she nodded. This time he nodded and looked at her with a smirk on his face, paused for only a second, scooped her up throwing her over his shoulder. Giving her a quick playful sway across her bottom as she protested his method of moving this to another location and carried her off to his dorm in the club house.

As he walked through the door of the clubhouse everyone stopped and looked to see who Happy had over his shoulder and carrying away like a Viking with his war prize. Those partying shared hoots and hollers which only made Y/N blush and tell Happy that this was not exactly what she meant when she said she wanted a change of atmosphere for what he had in mind.

Once they reached Hap’s dorm, he put her down and kicked the door shut behind him. Backing Y/N toward the bed he shrugged off his Cut off and laid it on the dresser in the room and kicked off his boots before turning his attentions back to Y/N.

He started kissing her again, this time he started working on removing Y/n’s clothes as she worked on removing his. Her shirt was removed and then his. He unbuttoned her pants, and she unbuckled his belt. They separated long enough to each remove their jeans. They both took a step back to admire the sight of each other almost naked. Y/N’s eyes widened at the hardening shape in Happy’s boxers and Happy smirked at Y/N’s Tiffany Blue Lace bra and panty set. Happy usually preferred his women in black but this shade of blue with Y/N’s skin tone might have just become his new favorite.

Licking his lips, he closed the space again with a smirk on his face as he started murmuring in Y/N’s ear asking her if she liked what she saw and telling her that she hasn’t seen anything yet. Before Y/n knows it, her bra has been unhooked and tossed to the side and Happy has his right hand on one of her breasts as Y/N ran a hesitant hand down Happy’s torso stopping at the waist band of his boxers.

Happy chuckled at her hesitation as he traced a finger across the waistband of her panties just lightly enough for his touch to tickle as he leaned into her ear to whisper to her, “It’s not gonna bite you, Little Girl.” He slipped his finger past the thin band of elastic that held her panties in place and into her slick fold to finding his target with ease rubbing her excited nub teasingly.

As Happy teased, Y/N went from feeling his torso to holding onto his arm for support to stay upright. Letting out a little gasp she felt her knees finally give out and buckle. Before she could drop Happy’s lightening quick reflexes had her on the bed safely and resumed teasing her, rubbing her nub, and working her into a frenzy. He watched her reach the edge and started murmuring to her again encouraging her to allow herself to fall over the edge into oblivion.

He upped his tactics and sent her over into bliss. He watched her through half hooded eyes as she came down from her orgasm, grinning to himself he removed her panties and then his boxers.

Y/N repositioned herself and looked up at him as he stood stark naked before her and opened her mouth preparing to take his length into her mouth, to take care of him but he stopped her. Telling her that there would be plenty of time for that later. He needed to feel her wrapped around him. As he stroked himself a few times as she lay back spreading her legs readying herself for what she knew was going to be the best sex of her life.

As he climbed on the bed, he positioned himself between her legs, stretching his long slender frame over her body so that he was face to face with her. Lining himself up at her wet core he asks if she’s ready for him waiting till he sees her nod, he leans down and gives her a deep kiss as he starts to thrust into her.

He was fully seated inside her in a few thrusts. She felt better than he had imagined, letting out a low growl and pausing to steady himself as well as giving Y/N time to adjust to his size. Y/N places her hands along Happy’s ribs and wiggles her hips to entice him to start moving again to which he obliges and starts off slow, increasing his pace evenly, kissing and watching Y/N’s face for cues when to speed up or change the angle. As he feels her close to that edge again, he starts talking to her telling her how gorgeous she looks coming undone underneath him and how good she feels around him.

After she peaks again and as she’s coming down from her high, he withdraws from her and flips her over onto her stomach, telling her to raise her hips. Once she was ready, he reentered her thrusting this time to reach his high. He starts off with a bruising grip on Y/N’s hips and a rough pace. As he chases his high, he moves a hand to her hair as she closes in on her next peak, she begs him to get rougher with her. He obliges out of instinct as he feels his own finish drawing near. As he feels himself drawing near his high, he mutters the curtesy ‘I’m close’ and receives encouragement from Y/N that mirrored what he gave her.

Happy roared to a finish deep inside of Y/N as she crested her own peak for the third time. Happy pulled out of Y/N spent and laid beside her on the bed, placing an arm over her when she tried to get up and leave. All he muttered was a gravely, “Stay…”

Y/N looked over her shoulder at Happy with a look of surprise, “But I thought….” Y/N stopped short with her words after seeing Happy’s face. His expression surprised her as it was outside of his normal gruff expressionless exterior. She could have almost mistaken it for adoration.

Happy shook his head and reached for Y/N’s hand, taking it in his, “Not with you, you I want to stay.” Letting go of her hand he took hold of the flat sheet that was on the bed and held it up silently inviting Y/N to climb in under it with him. “Please…”

Y/N sighed and nodded quickly before sliding in beside him. Happy laid the sheet over her, pulled her close and draped an arm over her abdomen. Holding her tight to him she spoke tenderly, “Hap, you planning on this being a serious thing? You wanting to keep me or something?”

Happy smiled at her and snuggled up a little closer to her, “If you’ll let me, Little Girl. I’d like this to be a serious kinda thing…” He paused waiting to see if Y/N made any attempts to stop him or turn him down, but she didn’t, so he continued, “Merry Christmas, Little Girl.”

The End

A/N part 2: I just want to apologize for how terribly that smut session was written I am not yet a proficient smut author and am still very awkward with the whole organizing of the smut scene. This is something I am still sorta new at and as much smut as I have read over the years you would think I’d have pick up a thing or two from those novels and fics. But if you’ve made it this far, I want to say Thank you for tolerating the terrible attempt you just read. I know if I write it more, I will improve and I am hoping to write more in the future. Much love, Queenie!

@darqchilddaydreamz @lady-telford

#queenie writes #queenies fanfiction #happy lowman #happy lowman fanfiction #happy lowman imagine #happy lowman x reader #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #soa #soa fic #soa imagine #sons of anarchy imagines #soa fanfiction #soa fandom #david labrava #crappy smut is still smut

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quibbs126 · 2 months ago

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So I had this character idea back when I was playing Great Ace Attorney, and it’s back again now so I just want to share

It was basically an idea for Fey clan ancestors

I know, I do the ancestor thing too much, but just let me have this one, alright?

Okay, so basically the idea is that we have two members of the Fey clan, or I suppose Ayasato clan, if we’re going by the original names (though I don’t know about that since unlike the other ones, the family name is important and would realistically be kept), and these two happen to be twin brother and sister

I never figured out what to call them though, so they’re probably going to be referred to as the guy and girl or something

Anyways, so the guy is a Japanese university student (not sure in what major), while his sister is a spirit medium in training to be the next Master. The brother doesn’t have any spirit powers, though he has been given a magatama by his sister (though he’s not that familiar with it)

Also despite being twins, they actually only met recently and learned of the other’s existence. I think the story in my head was that their mother died in childbirth, and their grandmother took that personally and blamed the son for it (I assume he’s the younger twin), so she had him sent away to live in another village. They only met now because the sister had been looking through village records for whatever reason and had learned of his existence through that

The sister’s very eager to get to know her newfound sibling, though the brother’s less eager. As far as he’s concerned, he’s already had family that cares for him, and while he doesn’t mind his sister, he’s aware the rest of his biological family isn’t fond of him. And also with this revelation, the sister has grown somewhat resentful of her family, particularly her grandmother, for keeping this a secret from her this whole time

The plot I cooked up for them to have them included in Great Ace Attorney is that the brother does a study abroad to Britain, and the sister decides to tag along (she bought her own ticket), even though she doesn’t really know any English. The idea she concocts is that he studies and she gets money for them. And also that this way they can make up for lost time, as she says (and she may or may not be looking for an excuse to stay away from the rest of her family right now)

Coincidentally, on their ship ride to England, they happen to meet Susato and/or Ryunosuke, depending on whether or not I want to set this during TGAA 2 or after. But either way, they meet on the ship ride, and end up becoming friends, or at least being happy that they’ve met other people in similar positions. By the end of their journey, they tell the twins that if they’re ever in need of legal assistance, to go and call for them on Baker Street

And indeed they end up needing that assistance as one of them gets accused of murder (I haven’t figured out which one), which leads into a fictional case for them. I don’t really have any details other than water and/or drowning was involved in the murder, and the sister does eventually end up channeling the victim, and there’s probably some attempted murder in the courtroom. Also the magatamas do work, it’s just that Ryunosuke and such (and thus we the audience) never actually see the Psyche Locks, it’s mostly just that the brother sees them and is shocked by them. The sister sees them too but doesn’t react

I think normally I’d draw them out before giving all this character info, but A: I don’t know what kind of designs to give them, and B: I’m at work right now and don’t have the ability to draw them, but I still want to tell you about them

Will I draw them? We’ll see, I don’t really know. But I just felt like sharing

#don’t know if anyone will be interested #but might as well tell you about these characters #instead of them just staying in my brain #ace attorney #great ace attorney #fey clan #my ocs #character idea

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wangsejabin · 2 years ago

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Chapter 83

When Su Liangdi got pregnant again, some people couldn't believe it, but followed it with celebration.

This would include Hu Liangdi.

Looking into her heart, she admitted that this emotion was a little too demeaning, as if she had just lost out to that woman, yet she had to admit that the woman was too much in the limelight.

One wonders what had possessed the prince, who used to be so indifferent that it was good if he could come to the backyard for ten days in a month, half of which had to be divided up by the prince's consort, while the others were lucky if they were able to get a day or two.

The so-called we do not fear suffer from the scarcity, but suffer from uneven distribution, all drought is also drought, the Crown Princess can not compete, do not look at Hu Liangdi not being less provocative with the Crown Princess, but she is actually very clear about the degree, Empress Fu can tolerate the extent, the Crown Prince can tolerate the extent. She can't compete with the Crown Princess, but she can be the first one among the others.

At one point, Hu Liangdi was complacent, but then she saw what it meant to have a drought and a waterlogged spot, and she understood what unfairness meant.

But the injustice happened a long time ago, when the Crown Princess and she were both pregnant, if she could do it again, even if she was pregnant and struggling, Hu Liangdi would have gone with her on the southern tour, but unfortunately there was no chance for her to do it over.

One step behind, and she is now reduced to picking up other people's leavings, but she is still complacent. Hu Liangdi was sure she was not the only one who was commiserating, there must have been others, so her emotions were not so serious.

The next day a group of people gathered at the Hall of Virtue.

The Prince Consort was not there and only came out a little later, saying that she had gone to see the Grand Duke and the Second Princess.

Before Hu Liangdi, an senior member of the family, could say anything, Li Liangyuan, who was a high-profile member of the newcomers because she was bold enough to run to the Crown Princess, spoke up.

"Crown Princess, I heard that Su Liangdi is pregnant? Then should the concubine and others go to visit?"

Of the four newcomers this time, two were given the title of Liang Yuan and two were given the lowest rank of Feng Yi, and this Li Liang Yuan was one of the two Liang Yuan.

Her grandmother was the Princess of Changshun, who was raised by the Empress Dowager when she was young, so she was quite distinguished among the ranks of the princesses.

The princess's husband's surname is Li, and Li Liang Yuan is the daughter of the princess's second branch. Since she was given here by the order of the Empress Dowager and was personally requested by the Crown Princess, Li Liang Yuan feels good about herself and feels that she is the Crown Princess's person, so since she joined the Eastern Palace, she has been frequenting the Hall of Virtue, and it does not seem abrupt to ask such questions at this time.

The royal family is not the same as the ordinary people from the small clans. It is clear that Li Liang Yuan did not mean this, but she was given a grand excuse.

The Prince Consort knew in her heart that she was waiting for her to make the decision.

But why should she make the decision for them? It is obvious that the crown prince will not give her a child anytime soon, and she does not want to give Su Pan'er an advantage, so what good will she get if she gives them an opportunity? She might even make enemies for herself.

The Crown Princess was a bit disillusioned when she thought of this.

"If you want to go, you can go. There is no need to talk to me about this. I have to go to Cining Palace to pay my respects, so I won't keep you."

Until the Crown Princess was invisible behind the curtain, the crowd was still a bit disbelieving, but this is the Hall of Virtue, not a place to talk.

When they went outside, Li Liang Yuan thought about it and asked Hu Liang Di, "Sister Hu, what do you think the Crown Princess means by this?

Hu Liangdi's gaze turned, "You are not asking me to say whether you are going or not. I have to go back to see the two princesses, so I won't talk to you sisters anymore." With that, she hurriedly left.

Li Liang Yuan went to pull Xu Liang Yuan again, "Sister Xu ......"

"Sister Li, look I have to go back to see the Eldest County Princess here too, and I can't spare time to talk to you, so I'll talk to you when I have free time." After saying that, Xu Liang Yuan also left.

Li Liang Yuan was looking innocent and bereft, and couldn't help but stomp her feet.

He Liang Yuan puffed out a laugh.

"What are you laughing at?"

He Liang Yuan took back her laugh and went back to her usual cold as ice look and walked away.

But Li Liangyuan was annoyed, stamping her feet and ripping her handkerchief again.

"Sister Li, forget it, let's go too, standing here is too conspicuous." Qian Fengyi, who is small in stature, advised. She was one of the newcomers to the family, and because of her father's low official rank, she had only been given the lowest rank of Feng Yi.

"What's the point of attracting attention? I didn't say anything unpleasant!" Li Liang Yuan scolded, but when she turned her head and saw Zhong Liang Yuan, she stepped forward and said, "Sister Zhong, let's go together and ignore them."

Zhong Liang Yuan looked at Qian Feng Yi, whose face was red with shame, and Qiao Feng Yi, who was standing next to her and did not say anything, and walked away with Li Liang Yuan.

"What do you think, sister Zhong? The Crown Princess doesn't care and no one else wants to get involved, so should we just leave it at that? It's been so long, but the Crown Prince hasn't come to my residence. ......" At the end of the sentence, Li Liang Yuan couldn't go on, she was still a young girl, how could she say such things?

"You should not be anxious, this kind of thing is useless to be anxious about."

"But if we don't act quickly, we'll all become a laughing stock. I don't believe she can still drag the Crown Prince into her house now that she's pregnant."

"What do you want to do?" Zhong Liang Yuan asked coldly.

After all, the Eastern Palace's backyard rules were strict, and they had experienced that for a while now.

Besides, even if they had a solution, they wouldn't tell each other. Although they may appear to be sisterly, they are in fact fighting with each other, so they can talk about the formalities but not the heartfelt words.

At the other end, Qian Feng Yi and Qiao Feng Yi were walking back to their home, where they lived in the same courtyard.

When they reached the courtyard, the two were about to divide their things when Qiao Fengyi suddenly stood still.

"I'm just saying, don't do any unnecessary things, do you really think that people treat you like a sister when they call you sister?"

"You-"

Qian Fengyi's face turned red, the little court lady beside her was no better than her.

But Qian Fengyi knew why Qiao Fengyi said that, she was new to the palace and the two of them lived in the same courtyard, so they were naturally closer, but she was a bit anxious these days, so she wanted to walk away from the others.

She had to go the way of others. The senior members of the Eastern Palace did not care much for these newcomers, so they had to choose between Li and Zhong. Li Liang Yuan was more cordial than Zhong Liang Yuan, so she inevitably got closer to her, and therefore cold-shouldered Qiao Feng Yi.

Who knew that Li Liang Yuan would suddenly turn her back on her in public today?

As she watched Qiao Feng Yi enter the west wing, Qian Feng Yi could only twist her handkerchief and walk back.

The servant girl beside her said, "Don't be angry, Master, let me tell you that Qiao Fengyi is jealous of you and Li Liangyuan's closeness. Li Liang Yuan has just been embarrassed twice in a row, so she must be uncomfortable in her heart, which is why she is angry with you.".

In the end, Li Liang Yuan decided to visit the First Eastern residence.

As she was a younger sister, she had to go to the courtyard to express her congratulations, but also because she had not seen the legendary Su Liangdi since she had entered the house.

For this reason, she went out of her way to bring in Zhong Liangyuan and Qian Fengyi to make up the numbers.

It was still a bit early when she went there, but not too early for those of them who had to go to the Hall of Virtues every day to pay their respects. It was also a bad time for them to come, as Pan'er was vomiting when they arrived.

It seemed to be a sign that Pan'er's pregnancy was not going well, she didn't react at all when she didn't know, but the day after Pan'er's pulse was detected, she began throwing up.

At first, Pan'er felt some nausea, but she thought it was because she had eaten something bad, so she called Dr. Dong to see her once.

The doctor said that there was nothing unusual about her and that vomiting was quite normal for a woman who was pregnant. It was only after this prompting from the doctor that Pan'er made the connection between pangs of nausea and pregnancy sickness.

Since then, she couldn't stop, she didn't like to eat what she used to like, she smelt everything, and the first thing she had to do in the morning was to throw up again, and she wouldn't stop until she had thrown up her overnight meal.

Aunt Qing and the others were all a bit frazzled as they experienced this for the first time.

When he saw her move in the morning, he thought that the sun had risen in the east and that she had finally stopped being angry with him, but this thought did not last long when he saw Pan'er covering her mouth, as if she wanted to say something but could not, and almost fell out of bed.

He hadn't even put on his clothes yet, so he took a big step up and scooped her up from the edge of the bed, and called out in anger, and a crowd of people poured in.

Auntie Qing led Xiang Pu and the others, bringing spittoons and warm water.

Pan'er vomited into the spittoon, so much so that tears came out of her eyes, and finally finished.

She drank the warm water and gasped for breath, while the Prince frowned, his face as black as the bottom of a pot. As for Fulu, he had already gone out to ask someone to call the doctor.

That was when Li Liang Yuan and the girls came.

"I'm really fine, it's just pregnancy vomiting."

After the first two days of experience, Pan'er knew that throwing up in the morning would at least keep her going for a little while longer. When she sat down outside and waited for the meal to be served, she explained to the Prince.

The prince was clearly not convinced, but he couldn't say anything without the doctor coming, but he had a rare gloomy face, and everyone knew he was in a bad mood.

At the door, Bai Zhi hesitated.

It was Pan'er who saw her and asked, "What's wrong? If there is something wrong, come in and talk."

"Master, Li Liangyuan and the girls have come to visit you."

"Li Liangyuan?" Since when was there a Li Liangyuan in the Eastern Palace?

Bai Zhi immediately reminded, "It's the ones who are new to the house."

Pan'er then went to glance at the Crown Prince.

This time, the prince's face was not dark anymore, and he seemed vaguely embarrassed. He was embarrassed by Pan'er's gaze.

"Then call them in." Pan'er's eyes remained on the Crown Prince as she said so.

"Why are you looking at Lone like that, it's not like I called them here." The Prince coughed.

"It's not because the Crown Prince is here that they came over when they found out, otherwise I would be like this, no, otherwise we wouldn't know each other, and they wouldn't have had to come to me."

"See how you speak in a shady way." The Prince was amused and laughed a little.

Pan'er grunted.

"How unlikeable."

Hearing the Prince's words and softening his tone, Pan'er was a little displeased.

"You don't like me now? Why didn't you? Do you think I'm old and grey ......," she said, pretending to wipe her tears while faking tears.

The prince's eyebrows jumped and he said, "Stop, what kind of books have you been reading lately?"

When she was in Yangzhou, there were many opera companies and bookstores in Yangzhou, so there were many books.

It seems that she is playing the role of a wife who has been abandoned by her husband, Chen Shimei.

At one end, the Prince interrogated Pan'er about what she had read, and at the other end, he was stuck at the door by the few people who had been brought in.

The sound of a woman crying and the reprimand of the Crown Prince could be faintly heard inside.

Is this Su Liang Di who has displeased the Crown Prince?

""The only thing I can do is to tell the truth," said Pan'er, who could not conceal it from the public, but brought back a whole box of books from Jiangnan.

But when she came back, she was about to give birth, so she didn't have time to read them, and she was busy with the baby after she gave birth, so she only recently touched a few books to pass the time.

"You're a strange little girl, you're full of tricks, be careful of teaching Wanyin the wrong things in the future." The prince pinched her cheek and said.

Pan'er secretly sighed, it was better to teach her badly, otherwise she would be too honest to be bullied.

In the previous life, Pan'er did not have daughters, but the Jianping Emperor had daughters, and they were all taught to be ladies of the house, unable to suppress the female officials and mothers of the princess's house, and unable to control their husbands' concubines, so they often came back to the palace to complain.

The emperor did not say anything on the surface, but behind the scenes, he was angry with the princesses, so after she gave birth to her daughter, Pan'er decided that she would teach her daughter to be more spirited, not like the princesses in the palace, so that she would not be bullied when she married.

As the two of them talked, there was movement from the other side of the door. Bai Zhi came in first and stood still before beckoning, and Xiang Pu came in with a group of people.

#mtl #yingchong

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devalchineselitblog · 2 years ago

Text

Week 18 Blog

Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China

Pages read:512-531

Word Count : 432

Summary(168):Next chapter one of the major dead of the chairman of communist party member Mao died and he had a negative and positive sides.chang was happy about his death and other were heartbroken by this news.Then she had to return back to the factory but she didn't want to so her mother tried to help by calling Mr.Hui who was a colleague of her mother and they found out that they needed a english teacher at sichuan university and chang took this offer.later they needed a person from a department to give a scholarship to go to west and they choose chang as she was smart and she already passed her exams.And she was the first person to from the university of 90 million population to allow study on west.The 10 years later she made london her home and was settle there.Then 1988 her mother came to england to visit her and there she told the story of her and grandmother.

Critical Analysis(107):The Author included this in the book “This freedom to see the world a freedom I could not dream of tormented me Because it had been impossible.”because to show that the author wanted to see the world free and be peaceful but during that time. It was impossible due to so much violence, war,blood, happening during that time that made it impossible to even think about but everything change after one incident and that show that anything can be possible if you just wait and try your best.But everyone has freedom to think about it and no one can take that away from anyone.

Personal Response(157):This my last blog about this book and it wa interesting and really good to read about because it show story of family and generation going through tough time and every one in the family and even china experience it during that time and I feel like I learned few stuff about the story and the person.The best part of the book was ending for me because The ending that i look for every book is happy ending and that's what the book had and nice and safe ending that made me happy.When change was settled in different country where not much violence was happening and it was really good for her and i'm happy about it.But during end of the book she lost a lot important family member during this time and im really sad about it.Other than that it a really good book to read about to learn about people experience.

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garudabluffs · 2 years ago

Text

The Births of Abraham Lincoln and Charles Darwin, February 12, 1809

READ MORE https://landmarkevents.org/the-births-of-abraham-lincoln-and-charles-darwin-1809/

February 12, 2023

Heather Cox Richardson

"On February 12, 1809, Abraham Lincoln was born in Kentucky. Exactly 100 years later, journalists, reformers, and scholars meeting in New York City deliberately chose the anniversary of his birth as the starting point for the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP).

Supporters of the project included muckraking journalists Ray Stannard Baker and Ida B. Wells, and sociologist W. E. B. Du Bois, who had been a founding member of the Niagara Movement, a Black civil rights organization formed in 1905. In 1910, Du Bois would choose to leave his professorship at Atlanta University to become the NAACP’s director of publicity and research. For the next 14 years, he would edit the organization’s flagship journal The Crisis.

While The Crisis was a newspaper, a literary magazine, and a cultural showcase, its key function reflected the journalistic sensibilities of those like Baker, Wells, and especially Du Bois: it constantly called attention to atrocities, discrimination, and the ways in which the United States was not living up to its stated principles. At a time when violence and suppression were mounting against Black Americans, Du Bois and his colleagues relentlessly spread knowledge of what was happening.

That use of information to rally people to the cause of equality became a hallmark of the NAACP. It challenged racial inequality by calling popular attention to racial atrocities and demanding that officials treat people equally before the law."

"In 1944 the secretary of the NAACP’s Montgomery, Alabama, chapter, Rosa Parks, investigated the gang rape of 25-year-old Recy Taylor by six white men after two grand juries refused to indict the men despite their confessions. Parks pulled women’s organizations, labor unions, and Black rights groups together into a new “Committee for Equal Justice” to champion Mrs. Taylor’s rights."

READ MORE https://heathercoxrichardson.substack.com/p/february-12-2023

314 Comments Annamarie 16 hr ago

"William English Walling is my great-grandfather. The family story about the founding of NAACP is that Walling and his wife Anna Strunsky Walling were speaking at Cooper Union in NYC about the Russian revolution. (They were committed Socialists and had spent time in Russia.) They were both to speak with my great-grandmother following to talk about the women's situation in Russia. But as I heard it when it was her turn to speak her heart was heavy with the news of the Springfield lynching and that's what she spoke about. As she was speaking she worried about how her husband would respond. After that speech Ida B Wells approached my great-grandparents and the plan for the first meeting was held. I thought it was at their Greenwich house.

Thought it would be fun to add this story. And I note, how my great grandmother's role gets overlooked. :)"

+ "

Real democracy. Lincoln's understanding of the black race was far from perfect, but he understood the evil that was slavery was consuming America's soul.

"What constitutes the bulwark of our own liberty and independence? It is not our frowning battlements, our bristling sea coasts, the guns of our war steamers, or the strength our gallant and disciplined army? These are not our reliance against a resumption of tyranny in our fair land. All of those may be turned against our liberties, without making us weaker or stronger for the struggle. Our reliance is in the love of liberty which God has planted in our bosoms. Our defense is in the preservation of the spirit which prizes liberty as the heritage of all men, in all lands, everywhere. Destroy this spirit, and you have planted the seeds of despotism around your own doors. Familiarize yourselves with the chains of bondage and you are preparing your own limbs to wear them. Accustomed to trample on the rights of those around you, you have lost the genius of your own independence, and become the fit subjects of the first cunning tyrant who rises." -A.Lincoln

& "Two tenacious NAACP legal bulldogs, Thurgood Marshall and his extraordinary mentor, Charles Hamilton Houston, targeted Plessy v Ferguson, 19th century Supreme Court ruling that ‘separate but equal’ was OK for African American students. Their focus was to eliminate racial discrimination in education.

Theirs was a decades long struggle. When Houston, the first NAACP legal counsel died, Marshall succeeded him. He pursued a deliberate policy of gradually chipping away at Plessy v. Ferguson bit by bit. He won 29 of his 32 cases on racial discrimination before the Supreme Court.

His monumental triumph was the 9-0 1954 Supreme Court Brown v. Board of Education that totally overturned PvF. While implementation of this decision has been a long and tortuous path, it remains one of the truly precedent-changing rulings in Supreme Court history.

Marshall was the first Black to be appointed to the Supreme Court. He was a liberal on the Court. Following his death, after a contentious Senate hearing Clarence Thomas was named to fill the ‘Marshall seat.’ "

#Abe Lincoln Charles Darwin NAACP

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qqueenofhades · 2 years ago

Note

Since you mentioned that you may be taking requests and also that you did that Dreamling oneshot the other day, I would like very much to humbly request an “every one of my family members is an eldritch abomination myself included however I should very much like to just go to uni and hopefully not destroy the entire world thanks” girlfriends, Rose and Nile?

It goes without saying that there are many things about this whole situation -- uprooting her life, moving to a new country, becoming her brother's legal guardian, helping him adjust while still feeling horrendously guilty about not saving him from his previous abusive situation sooner, sorting through her wealthy and late great-grandmother's extensive estate, and trying to start a graduate degree, while the mellifluous tones of Yakety Sax echo constantly through said country's government and she's not sure if the whole place is about to explode in a puff of clown-car smoke -- which are very, very stressful. Rose has always been good at making up more things to worry about, but even she doesn't need to search for ways to whet her anxiety, because it's already there and then some. Not to mention the whole part where she nearly destroyed the universe, became a dream vortex and then un-became it, inadvertently helped her friend have a baby with her dead husband, and almost agreed to let her creepy immortal great-uncle murder her for the greater good, before calamity was averted at the last minute and she turned out to be something called a Child of the Endless. Surely that won't be a problem again. Right?

In any event, amid this whirlwind of chaos, change, anxiety, and effort, Rose is very grateful to have met Nile Freeman, and they've taken to spending more and more time together. They have instantly bonded as young black women from America (or rather, Rose thinks Nile is from America, but she hasn't actually said) who both live in London and have endured the headaches of obtaining graduate degrees in history. Nile finished her PhD at KCL a few years ago, and is now doing that oh-so-fun early-career-researcher shuffle as she decides what she wants to do next, though she's made several cryptic references to wealthy parents who live in Malta and send her enough money to make sure she doesn't sleep under a bridge. "I appreciate it," she says as they walk through Bloomsbury, en route to Senate House so Rose can use the University of London's main library. "And considering all the disasters happening back in 2018, I was lucky to survive, truly. But sometimes I still want to do it on my own, you know."

"Mmm-hmm." Rose looks at her curiously. "What exactly do your parents do, by the way?"

"They..." Nile pauses. They come to a halt at the crosswalk and wait for the light. "You know, this and that."

Rose finds this answer rather vague, but maybe it's a sensitive subject, or Nile just doesn't want to talk about it yet. After all, they've only known each other for a few months, and Rose can't deny that she's very keen to impress the older girl. Nile is so gorgeous, so self-assured, with a strange eerie sheen to her skin and eyes that sometimes looks almost unearthly, but she's definitely the most normal person that Rose has recently met, and their interactions are the most refreshing part of her life. She has a bit (or maybe more than a bit) of a crush on Nile, but is too shy to see if that is actively reciprocated. As the light turns green and they cross, Rose says, "Are you from Malta, then? I thought you were American."

"Ethiopia," Nile says. "I was born there, at least. My parents adopted me a... a long time ago."

There definitely seems to be something she isn't saying, but Rose decides to let it pass, and they spend an enjoyable afternoon working at Senate House. Afterward, they trek off into the Bloomsbury streets in search of dinner, select a charming underground restaurant, and sit down in a candlelit corner. Nile orders her steak rare -- rare enough, in fact, that it's still practically mooing on the plate -- and Rose says jokingly, "Don't tell me, let me guess. You're a vampire."

Nile, who has just taken a sip of some indeed rather blood-red wine, chokes, starts coughing, and takes several minutes to compose herself, as Rose apologizes profusely. But she isn't laughing or treating it like a joke; she looks deeply startled. "How did you -- "

"Wait." Rose frowns. Oh no. Not her nice, normal, lovely friend who-she-kind-of-wants-to-be-her-girlfriend. Not in the one relationship and/or person she foolishly thought was not at all magical, creepy, supernatural, insane, or otherwise weird. "Are you...? I was just joking. I didn't..."

There's a very, very long pause. Nile seems to be weighing something up. At last she says, "If, hypothetically, I was... well, something like that, would you be upset?"

"I, uh." Rose considers what to say. After all, her horizons of what is possible have been recently and drastically broadened, and she's certainly not about to claim out of hand that vampires don't exist. "I don't think so?"

"I'm..." Nile looks around shiftily to make sure that all the other diners are happily absorbed, then lowers her voice anyway. "Technically half-vampire, half-djinn. My dads are one each. Nicky's a vampire and Joe's a djinn, and they sired me together, so it's... a long story."

"Okay." Rose blinks several times. "So your parents are...."

"Magical creatures, yeah." Nile eyes her. "You're taking this very well. Wait, are your parents also some kind of...?"

"My biological parents are both dead, but it turns out that I'm descended from something called the Endless." Rose feels awkward saying it, but there it is. "Do you, er, know what those are?"

"I don't think so. I could ask?"

"My great-uncle is the King of Dreams," Rose confesses, in something of a rush. "Lord Morpheus. Do you know him?"

"Maybe. It's been a long time, I can't remember everyone we've crossed paths with over the centu -- years." Nile nods her thanks as the waiter sets down a fresh basket of bread. "But again, I could -- "

"Wait. Centuries? How old are you?"

There is another long and deeply awkward pause. Then Nile says, "Technically, nineteen. But I was sired in 1104, so that means..." She calculates, then ventures, "Nine hundred and eighteen?"

"I knew it," Rose mutters. She is apparently just a magnet for every ever-living (literally) eldritch weirdo in the Western Hemisphere, and this isn't even touching the fact that her likewise-seemingly-nice-and-normal history professor/thesis supervisor is evidently also an ageless immortal and her aforementioned creepy King of Dreams great-uncle is valiantly attempting to not only date him, but ask Rose for advice. Truly. Her life is ridiculous.

#anonymous #ask #aitww #the key of solomon #tkos asks #look i am technically not in fact actively TAKING requests #but you saw 'i am very easily enabled' and went 'hmm i bet i can get them to write this anyway'#and i respect that hustle #so your wish has been granted! XD #....i shouldn't say that should i #now other people may try it #welp

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thesimpsbasement · 2 years ago

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For Mod Betty! Could I get a scenario where Barok falls for a childhood friend who grew up on the van Zieks estate as the grandchild of staff at the estate? As kids they'd have to hang out in secret as s/o was a bit of a troublemaker and Barok's parents didn't approve of him behaving in a way unbecoming of a young gentleman. As adults, s/o keeps a job at the estate, Barok is still pinning but fears disapproval due to their class difference.

Hello anon and I love this idea so much! I hope I did this request justice hehe( apologies for taking so long didn't have motivation to write for a bit)

But with that out of the way, enjoy reading!

__________________________________

Fandom: Ace Attorney

Character: Barok van Zieks

Author: Mod Betty

Warnings: spoiler warning, possibly historically inaccurate,classism?, Spoilers for tgaa 2

Reader is gender neutral

Word count: 1,250 words

__________________________________

Barok was a quiet kid, never really talking or interacting with people, staff included hope he couldn't help but notice a young child constantly following and pestering one of the staff members,specifically an old woman.Barok concluded that you must be the woman's grandchild considering how she treated you like her own kid.One time Barok was walking past through the hallway of his mansion but halted when he heard the old servant scolding you " ____ how many times do I have to tell you to not get into fights with kids of high class families with ,you could get us in big trouble and possibly ruin the van Zieks name" She said as you pouted "But what was I supposed to do?He was bullying a kid just because he wasn't like them, honestly rich kids need to be ruffled up if they're all like this-" you responded which caused the woman to gasp and cover your mouth "Don't think about saying that in front of the lord's child!Do you have any idea what you're saying?!" She scolded you. Barok was left in awe at your actions; he had to admit he admired your sense of justice. You tried to minimize the trouble you'd normally do because the pain in your grandmother's eyes physically hurt you and the scolding she received from the van Zieks left a bitter taste in your mouth.Barok always wanted to talk to you,to get to know you but could never find a perfect moment especially when his parents didn't allow him near you because your behaviour might influence him negatively, his brother didn't seem to be bothered by you contacting he's a goofball himself and often encouraged Barok to meet you in secret while he covers for him.

The plan was simple, Klint started a conversation with his parents while Barok ran off to find you which wasn't too hard to do because he always saw you outside of the mansion when you didn't have to perform your duties.Walking up to you he took note of how you tense up " What do you want " you mumbled looking away from him, you weren't exactly fond of him sure he wasn't like those bratty rich kids you see on the streets but you can never be too sure" I simply wanted to have a conversion of that's alright with you" he said sitting next to you " Aren't your parents going to flip seeing you talking to me ?" You asked , eventually looking at him " Worry not that's being taken care of" he reassured "What's your name? I never usually talk to servants so I never know who they are or how they're like" he said

.You stood silent for a moment before answering" I'm _____" " I'm Barok van Zieks it's a pleasure to talk with you" he said smiling "Am I supposed to call you 'young lord' like how granny does?" You ask narrowing your eyes " No just Barok is fine when we're alone like this, but you will have to call me that when other staff members or my family are around I suppose " Barok said "I'm surprised you stood up to those kids considering they are from well known families, I always to admit I admire your bravery " ge said looking at you with a smile " Wait how'd you know? Did they snitch or something?" You asked "No I did sort of eavesdrop on your conversation with your grandmother I do apologise " he admired sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly "I do have to admit you are different from those kids, you aren't a brat that thinks he rules the world like they do" you said ,Barok giggling at your way of describing them "But I'm glad you are,at least you're bearable to listen to" you laughed as you 2 started chatting for a bit.Barok looked at the window seeing Klint waving, a signal for him to stop the conversation so he won't be caught. Getting up he dusted himself off. " Well, I should get going for now, I'll try to come back whenever possible " he said before entering the mansion.Meeting up with Klint he gave him a smirk " So how did your conversation with your crush go?" He teased causing the younger brother to blush "T-they aren't! Quit saying such foolish things !" He said " Yeah yeah sure" he rolled his eyes at his brother's statements going back to his room. And that's how most of your meetings went,Klint acting as a decoy while Barok visited you and talked with you,and that's how you became friends.

Fast forward to present time,you still had a job at the estate, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you left Barok at his weakest, what friend would you be?Some of the staff members left to the fear of his 'curse' latching onto them while others remained in fear to not feel the reader's wrath.Barok was the shell of the man he once was, who wouldn't be if someone they trusted murdered their beloved sibling.Barok wasn't as talkative as he was an a young child and honestly you missed that side of him, you hated seeing him so upset all the time with a stone face expression painted on his face. You tried your best to at least bring him some sort of light at the end of the dark tunnel but to no avail or so you thought. Barok was actually grateful you stood by him , he wouldn't know what he would have done if you also had left him behind.A warmth is his chest that he has felt since his university years, he tried to deny it at the time but he knew what that feeling was. Love.He placed a hand on his chest,where his heart is located,it's beating quickly than it usually is and that's when his mind starts to wonder….'How am I going to deal with this feeling inside me, I can't be feeling such foolish emotions, they are just mere servants. How would people look upon the van Zieks family if they found out?...."

His eyes widened when he heard the words coming out of the council's mouth,Klint was the professor all along ? No this is pure conjecture there's no way! He was in utter disbelief everything he believed in was a lie, he didn't know what to think anymore, he needed time to calm himself.So after the trial was over and had a chit chat with the defence he went straight home and locked himself in his room. You were worried about his well-being obviously but you knew if you tried calming him down now it'll only make it worse so you let him think and wait until he decides to open up to you. Eventually he let's his heart heal and starts to move on from this event however there is still something that makes his heart ache and that is his feeling…for you.He knows he can never tell you these feelings, a member of a royal family dating a servant that's unheard of! Being the only alive van Zieks member he has the burden of his shoulders to represent the family and to spread their legacy and professing his love for you might throw all of his hard work away.

Maybe in a different life he could be together with you,as his partner but for the time being he'll treasure the friendship you two have.

#fanfiction #ace attorney #fanfic #ace attorney x reader #ace attorney fanfiction #tgaa #dai gyatuken saiban #dgs x reader #tgaa x reader #barok van zieks x reader

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starglow-xx · 4 years ago

Text

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada & port mafia (part 1)

platonic! edogawa ranpo x f! reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting these fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them! but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff

author’s notes: this will be a multiple part series of head canons and this is only part one! this series will include both the agency and port mafia members, and then something special for the end. maybe i’ll even write a real one shot/scenario for it. if there’s enough interest, i might open up a tag list for this! i hope you all enjoy!! <33

also, ranpo is 25 in this part; kenji, atushi, kyouka, and the tanizaki siblings aren’t part of the agency yet, only yosano, kunikida, and dazai are, but in the next couple parts, it will be established that the tanizakis are

and (n/n) means nickname :)

meeting the greatest detective

your bakery, Sakura’s, which you named after your late grandmother (who was also your guardian), went into business when you were 18 right after graduating high school

who needed a culinary course when you were trained by dear ol grandma?

your grandmother died when you were 16, just as you started your second year of high school

you were devastated of course, but you knew she wouldn’t want you to wallow over it too long

so in those last two hard years of high school, you took part time jobs at other bakeries and saved lots and lots of money

by graduation, using your life savings, the money your grandmother had left for you, and all the money you earned working, you were able to buy the small building—with a reasonable amount of money left over to survive— you and your grandmother had been eyeing back in her hometown, yokohama, to start your bakery

the building was a bit run down, but you were planning to give it a makeover anyways

it was a bit smaller compared to other buildings around, only having two stories, but on the plus side, the second floor had taller ceilings and was an apartment

is that realistic? probably not but bare with me here

aNYWHO

you finished putting your bakery up in about 4 months, then finished up your apartment 2 more after

you opened Sakura’s at 7 in the morning then closed at 8 in the evening

when you first started, you did quite well!!

especially with those who went to work on early mornings and families

the time when you first opened was the most peaceful, but you admitted that it was a bit boring, and you wished for a bit more excitement

and boy, the day edogawa ranpo stepped into your bakery was the catalyst for the chaos and excitement that was soon to come

not that you knew that

if you did you would’ve never let him in

maybe

you were 19 when ranpo discovered Sakura’s, and it was completely accidental

he finished solving a case and was on the way back to the agency, and he—not surprisingly—got lost and then it started to rain really hard

it was pouring; there was even the cliche thunder strike and everything

you saw the brown clad man across the street and you ran out with two umbrellas (almost getting hit by a car mind you) handed one to him and practically dragged him inside

with the heavy rain on the forecast, Sakura’s was empty, so you gently pushed him down on a chair and you rushed away to find towels

even though the two of you had umbrellas, the two of you were still soaked

finding said towels, you quickly dried yourself the best you could then you draped your towel over your back and rushed over to give him his as well as a warm pastry and your special hot honey lemon tea

ranpo laughed as you placed down the refreshment and snack, thinking that you knew who he was and was giving him special treatment

poor bby blinked and went :0 when you said you didn’t

“you don’t know who i am?”

“no. am i supposed to?”

“...”

the 25 year old blanked and you worried that you broke him and started to apologize profusely

he cut you off claiming that he got over it he didnt but seeing as the bakery was empty and it was pouring pretty badly, he demanded you give him all your attention sit with him so he could tell you all about himself and what he’s done

the two of you got along quite well

you were amazed with all the stories he’s told you

you honestly acted like a cute little kid listening to fairytales

he told you that and in response you threw a napkin at him

“wow ranpo-san! that’s amazing!!”

“you look like a little kid”

cue the napkin

he was happy with all the attention, praise, and sweets you gave him

the agency gave him praise sure, and made sure he had a lot of snacks but it was refreshing to have someone give him this much and your treats were the best he’s ever had

after he told you all his most interesting cases, the two of you just rambled about the most randomest things; going from the best desserts and snacks to the stupidest things his coworkers have done

you guys were on that last topic for a while

you two talked and rambled for hours, and when it hit hour two and the rain was still pouring, you just went ahead and slipped the “we’re open” sign to “closed” even though it was only 2 o’clock

you thought that this was probably the loving goofy older brother relationship that you missed out on

“ranpo-san, you’re kind of like the brother i’ve never had”

“and you’re still like that little kid”

cue another napkin to the face

don’t worry, he already adores you <3

he just likes to make fun of you </3

*cuts you off as you’re talking to squish your cheeks* “(y/n) you still have a lot of baby fat and you’re pretty short...are you sure you’re still not in high school or smth??”

*incoherent talking due to pressure on cheeks* “ranpo-san you have 3 seconds before i kick you out”

at around 6, the rain came to a stop and by then, the both of you were all dried up

before he left, you gave him a map so that he hopefully wouldn’t get lost again and gave him a couple boxes of treats for him to have and to share with his coworkers

you closed early so you had to give away at least some of the remaining treats somehow

he wanted you to go to agency with him so he didn’t have to carry everything but you declined saying that you didn’t want to bc you wanted to rest

and for payback for calling you a little kid

you were 19 goddamnit

you already placed everything neatly into two bags so it was easy to carry but this bitch still had the audacity to pout and whine at you

and he calls you the little kid, jeez

you never told him but, you almost gave in

you never told him. but he probably already knows

ranpo san knows all after all; even you knew that by now

the two of you had also exchanged phone numbers and when the two of you showed each other what you each put for a contact name along with the note below, the two of you broke out into grins

you named him “the greatest detective <33″ & put the note “new nii-san <33 & bully </3″ and he named you “cute bakery girl” with the note “best follower, sweets supply & annoying little kid”

when he left, you properly closed the bakery and taped a sign to the door saying that you closed early for personal reasons

when everything was cleaned up, you marched up into your bedroom, plopped on your bed, and took a nap

you deserved it

at the agency not too long after that, ranpo had arrived and when he opened the door, everyone rushed towards him in concern asking if he was okay

he waved them off and walked towards his desk and plopped down in his seat

he placed the two bags in front of him and took out a box of cream puffs and started to snack on them

his coworkers watched him blankly as his scarfed down one after another

after finishing that box, he rummaged through the bags to look through the different kinds of pastries you’ve given him

noticing that there were people still staring at him he paused before sighing in exasperation

he began to whine at his coworkers saying that no one told him it was gonna rain and that they were lucky that he happened to be in front of Sakura’s

“why did no one tell me?! it was pouring and i was soaked! you guys are lucky that (n/n)-chan’s bakery was right there! you would’ve probably lost me! how would the agency even function without me here?!”

no one wanted to be the one to tell him that they had no idea who he was talking about and that they did in fact tell him that it was gonna pour

they can save that, and their questions for another time

next >>

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our-lady-of-night-ravens · 4 years ago

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The Bane of Our Family: Father

Inspired by @tri3tri’s S/W au along with a submission from @scorpiris-sideralis

There will be more for me to say at the end of the story.

In the Valley of Thorns, lived a princess who was born with the blood of both humans and fae. The crown princess of the Valley, under the tutelage of her father, the king, and the brightest scholars of the kingdom grew up to be an intelligent and cunning princess who was skilled in controlling her fae magic and was brought up to be a great Queen.

However, she knew that there were notable issues within the castle, starting with her family. Her father, who treated her like a national treasure, was possessive over her sweet and loving mother. The reason for that was simple. She didn’t love Father, at least not in the way father wanted her too. And so, Mother was forced to marry her father at a young age, even though most of his advisors were against the idea of father marrying a magic-less human. That reason alone was why many of her father’s advisors would look at her with scorn and disdain, no matter what she accomplished.

She cared deeply about her mother and treasured the unconditional love that she gave her and her younger sister from infancy. That was why for her sake, she would ascend to the throne and find a way to help her mother return to her true home. The princess spent years planning every decision out, gaining the favor of young nobles, winning over some of the members of her father’s court, and earning the love of the public.

However it was all torn apart when her father announced that he would be marrying another woman, a lady of a noble pureblood fae family, in hopes of giving birth to a son, and once she did, that child would be the next heir. He had denounced her as his heir, all that work, everything she did, it was apparently for naught.

Then again she can’t be too surprised, her father’s advisors had been badgering him to take on a second wife of pure fae origin so he could have an heir of pureblood.

Pureblood.

That was something about the Princess she couldn’t change about herself. She could study every book in the royal library and become the kingdom’s most brilliant scholar, she could take up the way of the blade and become the greatest swordsman in the Valley, she could even practice her magic and refine it to perfection that rivals even her father’s, but she could never change her blood. It was something that was always mentioned among the advisors like it was a blatant flaw of hers. Like it made it her inferior to all of them, despite having the Witch of Thorns’ blood running through her veins.

It simply wasn’t right, Mother, human though she may be, was the queen of the Valley of Thorns, had the proper authority to act upon her whims and punish everyone if she wasn’t so compassionate. It was disrespectful to see the court and the servants look at her and her mother with contempt despite all they’ve done for the kingdom.

She had to listen to Sebek criticize her mother all the time, no matter how well she did her job as Queen because of her human origins. It was disrespectful for a fae who was no more than a guard to berate his queen for doing her duty. It was frustrating seeing her mother have no choice but to grow used to the hurtful comments around her no matter what she did and watching her father do nothing to prevent them.

When she confronted her father in his office, all he did was brush her off, like she was dust on his shoulder.

“Father I don’t understand why you would give in to your court’s whims.”

“This isn’t your business, I suggest that some of your studies be dropped as you are no longer heir.”

“But father, you would always say that you needn’t have to remarry because you would always have mother and my sister and me. Why did you suddenly change your mind now?”

“That is none of your concern, the Valley needs a proper heir and your mother simply hasn’t become pregnant in these past few years.”

“A proper heir? Have my actions not shown that I’m capable of being Queen? Or is it that… you’re ashamed of my human blood, ashamed of me and mother?”

His back grew rigid, “Daughter, I would watch your words in front of me.”

“I refuse, I need a proper answer from you father. Would you have preferred that mother was born fae? Did you not, when I was younger, say that you loved everything about mother, or was just that simply just a lie?”

“Young Lady…”

“I’m right, aren’t I? You don’t love mother, do you? You just think of her as a fun toy that you grew tired of don’t you? You certainly don’t care that she’s constantly harassed by the castle’s employees, from the court to Sebek even the maids go about berating her for her human blood. But I’ve never seen you once attempt to stop them.”

Her father’s ears were turning red from contempt and his eyes were glowering at her but she stood her ground.

“Or is that your plan? You stole her from her home, forced her into marriage, forced her to have your children only to abandon her in a way of breaking her down until she’s desperate for care and affection from you. Is this all just a part of your sick and twisted attempt of getting her to love you?”

*SLAP*

A red mark bloomed on the princess’s face, her father standing before her, hand raised. He had slapped her. She raised her hand to the mark on her face with wide eyes. In the past, she never would have believed that her doting father would even harm a hair on her head, let alone slap her across the face. It hurt, even though she knew what he put her mother through, he was still her father and she always wanted to appease him and make him proud.

“That’s enough out of you, it seems you’ve grown as insufferably stubborn as your mother. Silver. Sebek. Escort the princess back to her room.” His guards, who were waiting outside, entered his office.

Silver was the first to approach her, “Princess please follow me.” But she pulled herself away from him.

“I’m not leaving until I ask one last thing to my father, Silver.”

Malleus sighed before answering, “And pray tell would that be, daughter?”

She stood up straight and looked him straight in the eyes, “I know you father, I know that for years you’ve done all you can think of to get mother to love you, to have the family you desired. But I ask you if this is truly what you want to do. Do you truly mean to set Mother aside in favor of another and to have another on the throne?”

He faltered for a moment before standing straight and tall, towering over his daughter, “Yes, and nothing is going to change my decision.”

She should’ve known. Mother always did say that father lied often. Like how he lied that he loved mother with all his heart. Or how he promised that she would be able to lead the Valley of Thorns proudly as Queen one day.

She lowered her eyes in a moment of sadness before glaring up at him in a split second before returning to a neutral face, “If that is your will,” She curtsied, “I hope you’re happy with your decision because there’s no going back. May your reign be long and prosperous, Your Majesty.” She made a quick turn before leaving, head facing forward, hands to her waist and her back straight, an exit filled with formal grace.

On her way to her room, she began to get lost in her thought. Lilia was on his way to see his majesty when he spotted the young first princess walking almost aimlessly. So he called out to her.

“Princess.” Her attention was drawn to the voice calling out to her, she turned to face Lord Lilia, one of her father’s most trusted retainers.

“Lord Lilia, I give my greetings.”

Now, now, princess, you needn’t have to greet this old one,” Lilia waved off her formality.

“Even if you are as you say, an ‘old one’, you are father’s most trustworthy retainer and have served the royal family since the time of my great grandmother, her majesty, The Witch of Thorns. To understate your prestige would be nothing less than rude. But that aside, did you need something of me, Lord Lilia?”

“Why yes, I was wondering how you were doing. I heard you were a touch shaken up after your father announced he would be remarrying and removing your title as heir.”

“I suppose I was shaken up however this matter is something that father has the final say in alone. If he wishes for that woman’s future child to be the next ruler, I have no choice but to set aside any opposition. I just came back from my father’s office and was planning on returning to my room.”

“I see but your highness, you just passed your bedroom door though,” she turned her head back to see the door to her bedroom just a few feet behind her.

“Oh! I didn’t realize… I must have been lost in my thoughts to notice, who knows where I could have ended up. Thank you for notifying me, Lord Lilia.” She turned around to enter her bedroom before remembering something, “Actually Lord Lilia,” The old fae’s ears perked before turning to her, “ I was wondering if you were on your way to see father… I meant to give him some policy proposals regarding the dispute regarding the villages along our border but it must have slipped my mind.”

The old fae smiled, “Actually, I, as a matter of a fact, was indeed on my way to see his majesty, I can deliver it on my way princess.” She smiled before entering her room and coming out with a small stack of papers in hand.

“The first half of the pages consist of a set plan with can act towards for long term and my argument for the plan while the remaining half includes smaller short term solutions that should appease the residents for the time being along with the territory’s lord too.”

Lilia’s face was a tad surprised, though the princess was a young adult to human standards, she was like a baby when compared to the average lifespan of a fae, and yet she comes up with intuitive solutions that most conservative fae would never think of in centuries but then again, look at who her mother is. The first female student of NRC and the young lady who stopped overblot after overblot in her first year alone, “You know to be quite honest your highness, whether or not you become Queen, I’m genuinely curious about what you’ll do for this country.”

“I appreciate the sentiment Lord Lilia but I’m afraid I might not be able to do as much anymore with my title as heir taken from me,” A saddened smile, present on her face. It pained Lilia to see the bright princess he knew with dreams as high as the sky so diminished, “Right now, looking after my mother and sister are what matters to me right now. Now if you excuse I’ll just return to my room.”

“Of course your highness. I’ll be off then.” Lilia left the princess to her own devices before setting off to his original course towards his majesty’s office.

Meanwhile, the princess closed her door before sitting in front of her vanity mirror. “Whew that was too close, I almost got excited in front of Lilia. My whole plan would have been ruined if that had happened.” A smile creeping on her face, “Though I can help but wonder what kind of expression father will have on his face when he sees my policy proposal... regret, annoyance, sadness? Oh, the possibilities.”

Father’s decision will surely backfire on him. She knows her father, to her, it would only be a matter of time before Father realizes that he regrets his decision. Father would never give up on Mother so easily, and the look on his face. He barely showed it but he must not have been aware of how she was harassed by the servants.

No doubt he’ll investigate it further and when he does, he’ll find out the mastermind in no time. After all, if she could do it in less than a week with few resources then he should figure it out in a few days at most. He’ll realize just how untrustworthy the court is and eventually, father will have to admit his mistake and reappoint her.

But until then...Let’s have Father suffer just for a little bit.

She looked at the small frame image of her mother and younger sister, ‘Perhaps I should arrange a tea party for mother and sister in the meantime. I can’t wait to tell them what I have planned.’ Her eyes begin to glow brightly.

The princess looked back at her reflection in her mirror, her green eyes, long black hair, and prominent horns made her a near spitting image of her father. If it weren’t for her facial structure, you wouldn’t see any of the queen’s genetics at all. ‘Oh, I’m sure mother will be excited to have father be away from her after so long. She has been going on about how she just wants some alone time.'

She thinks about how her father’s future second wife. From what she’s heard, the future second queen is a bit of an attention hog so she’ll surely demand father all of his free time. She wonders how long it’ll take before the court realizes their blunder about how the second queen is hardly active anyway outside of gossip tea parties and luxurious ballrooms. Meanwhile, her mother was never one who enjoyed being lavished in luxuries, much to her father’s dismay and worked hard in aiding this nation as a competent figure.

The princess couldn’t wait for the look of frustration on father’s and his retainers’ faces when dealing with this spoiled noble lady and how that woman will look whence realizes that she won’t be getting her happily ever after. Oh, the performance she’ll be able to watch alongside her sister and mother.

“How amusing this show will be...”

~ For Malleus and MC’s eldest daughter, I portrayed her as a cunning woman who cares about her mother deeply and will do what she can to ensure her mother’s happiness. Even if that means making her father miserable in the process.

Also I’m making a part 2 for this as well so expect that to coming soon.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst mc #s/w au #my writing #malleus draconia #twst silver #Lilia Vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #twst kids #no beta read #yandere malleus draconia #malleus draconia x mc #Bane of Our Family

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prorevenge · 4 years ago

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My Grandmother Put Greedy Preachers In Their Places .... Twice .... Even After She Died

TL/DR - My grandmother generously served her "Bible Believing Christian" church for almost 50 years, without asking anything in return. But when she became elderly, disabled and homebound, her church acted like she did not exist - until she was in hospice care and literally on her deathbed, when that church showed a sudden interest in telling Grandma to, "Remember your church in your will". She waited until exactly the right moment, in front of exactly the right audience, to expose these greedy assholes for what they were.....twice.

My grandmother was a member of a large conservative "Bible Believing" church for her entire adult life. This church, which I'll call BigWhiteChurch, was a member of a large Evangelical denomination. BigWhiteChurch was located in a prosperous suburb of a large city in the Bible Belt of the Deep South of the USA.

Grandma was very active in BigWhiteChurch. She worked in the nursery every Sunday morning, helped cook hundreds of church fellowship breakfasts and dinners, accompanied her children and grandchildren on dozens of church retreats and choir tours, taught Youth Bible Study on Sunday nights and was very active in supporting Home Missions, as well as helping with other youth programs. She always tithed, and often gave extra for missions and special offerings.

Grandma's greatest talent was making other people feel important. I've seen this first-hand many times. Although I belonged to a different church, I often visited with Grandma, and when I did, I usually went to BigWhiteChurch functions with her. I've seen her single-handedly cook breakfast for dozens of BigWhiteChurch Youth, a task which took over 2 hours, even in the church's large kitchen. Then, after the meal, she asked the group for a round of applause for the high-school student leader for, "Doing such a great job of organizing the Prayer Breakfast".

I remember that, on a BigWhiteChurch youth retreat at a rural Church Camp, she drove most of the night to go back to the city and retrieve a big box of evangelistic materials, that one of the Assistant Pastors (whom I'll call AssPastor) had forgotten and asked her to get, in time for our morning program the next day. His boss, the Senior Pastor (I'll call him PompousPastor), never found out that AssPastor had screwed up or that Grandma had fixed it for him. AssPastor never even thanked Grandma. Even though I was a child, this bothered me so much that I asked her about it. She said that she didn't mind at all; she told me her reward would be that those materials, "Would help children find Jesus".

Grandma's service to her church ended abruptly at the age of 73, when she broke her back in a car accident. Afterwards, for the last 10 years of her life, she was homebound and could not go to church because of this injury and declining health due to old age. Her mind was just as sharp as ever, and her faith remained sincere, but her body wore out a little more every day.

During those 10 years, she made many efforts to reach out to her church, its leadership and her church friends, inviting them to visit her at her home, etc., without success. Every one of these invitations was declined or simply ignored.

Near the end, when she was in home hospice care, she decided to plan her own funeral. She and my Grandpa called her church and asked for the Senior Pastor, PompousPastor, whom she had known for over 30 years, to visit her so that they could plan her memorial service, which she and Grandpa wanted to be held at the church.

PompousPastor was too busy, but AssPastor stopped by a few days later. According to my Grandpa, here's what happened at that meeting, with my Grandma literally on her deathbed:

Grandma, Grandpa and AssPastor discussed her funeral for a couple of minutes. Then AssPastor started pressuring her to, "Lay up your treasure in Heaven" by, "Remembering your church in your will".

Grandpa told him firmly that, "This is neither the time nor the place to discuss her will."

They went back to discussing the funeral for a few minutes. Then AssPastor steered the conversation back to Grandma's will, with liberal injections of how badly "her" church needed "her support".

Grandpa told him several times that it was inappropriate to talk to Grandma about her will or the church's financial needs, because she was terminally ill and in an enormous amount of physical pain. AssPastor would agree and briefly talk about the funeral, but would then go back to talking about the church's financial needs, heavenly rewards, "Where your treasure is your heart will be also" (Matthew 6:21, Luke 12:34), etc.

My Grandma started crying.

To put this into context, Grandma was more than a "Steel Magnolia". She was "Titanium Coated With Diamond Wrapped In Kevlar". She rarely ever cried, and never EVER cried about herself. Not one tear when the doctor told her that her back was broken so badly that she would never walk again, nor during the following 6 months in futile rehab. She would shed sincere but well-managed tears at funerals and while visiting family members in the hospital when they received bad news. She would cry to console others, "Weep with those who weep". But nobody - not Grandpa, not her daughter (my mom), nor any of my uncles or Grandma's siblings - ever remembered her crying for herself.

My Grandma was sobbing uncontrollably.

Grandpa, a retired steelworker, ex-Marine Sergeant and Korean War combat veteran, physically grabbed AssPastor and "escorted" him out of their house, not too gently.

Contrary to everyone's expectations, Grandma lived another 6 months, mostly because of sheer force of will. Eventually, though, Grandma passed away and we held her memorial service at the funeral home, not BigWhiteChurch. PompousPastor and AssPastor were conspicuously absent. In fact, there were no "Professional Christians", from BigWhiteChurch, at the service at all, not even in the audience.

To start the service, Grandpa stood up at the podium in front of the crowd and said, "Some of you may have heard that I dis-invited PompousPastor and AssPastor from this funeral service. This service is not an appropriate place for me to give you my reasons for doing this, although you all know me and so you know that my reasons are good ones. Also, my wife asked me to exclude them."

"This funeral service may be different from other funerals that you have attended. It is going to be an "open microphone" funeral. Everyone who wants to say something is invited to come up here and describe your friendship with my wife, tell a story about her that is worth remembering, or anything else that you want to say that will honor her memory and bring comfort to everyone here today. I have asked several family members to prepare statements, but you don't have to have anything prepared. Please, if you want to say something, come up here and do so."

There were about a hundred people at the funeral service; at least a third of them eventually stepped up to the microphone. The service, which we had planned to last about 30 minutes, lasted for over two hours and, as best I can tell, not one person left early. There was laughing, crying and hugging, three of her grandchildren played some of her favorite songs on the piano and guitar, we all joined hands and sang her favorite hymns.

Afterwards, dozens of people told my Grandpa that it was one of the most comforting and uplifting funerals they had ever attended. More than a few remarked that, "Funerals are better without preachers anyway", or something similar.

REMEMBERING HER PASTORS AND HER CHURCH IN HER WILL: THE ONE-TWO PUNCH

A couple of weeks later, it was time to start distributing the bequests in Grandma's will. Although Grandma and Grandpa dearly loved each other, they had separate wills because, she told my Mom, "That makes it easier for us to respect each other's turf", and because their lawyer had recommended it. Nobody thought that my grandparents were wealthy. They had lived in the same small but charming house in a prosperous, well-maintained suburban neighborhood for the past 50+ years, and had worked hard and lived modestly. But it was rumored that they had a very nice nest egg.

Of course, there is no legal requirement for anyone to attend "The Reading Of The Will", or to even have a "Reading". Modern telecommunications and near-universal literacy have made this quaint custom practically extinct.

But "The Reading Of The Will" was a tradition in our family because it was one of those events that gave our close-knit, extended family an excuse to get together. We never had "Family Reunions". They were too difficult to schedule for our large family. But we got together at birthdays, holidays, funerals, baptisms, etc., so that if you attended several of these, you would see just about every one of your cousins, aunts, uncles, and even great aunts & uncles who were Grandma's and Grandpa's siblings and in-laws.

With this family tradition in mind, many of our family members' wills often contained very personal bequests of items that had little cash value, but were the departed family member's way of telling their loved ones that they wanted to share a cherished memory with them one last time.

As an added incentive to attend, the family rumor mill had been buzzing with speculation, encouraged by Grandpa, that Grandma's will contained some "surprises".

The "Reading" was held in a conference room at a lawyer's office. Unsurprisingly, the attendees included my mom, as well as aunts, uncles, great aunts, great uncles and many of the grandchildren.

We were all surprised, however, to see PompousPastor and AssPastor from BigWhiteChurch. They informed us that Grandma's lawyer had told them that Grandma's will had bequests not only for BigWhiteChurch, but also for them personally.

Maybe it was just our imagination; but my siblings, cousins and I couldn't help noticing that these Preachers appeared to be actively salivating over their good fortune at Grandma's generosity.

Grandma had a large family, so a sizeable number of beneficiaries were named in her will. The lawyer's conference room was a bit smaller than an average middle-class living room. Extra chairs had been brought in, every seat was filled and people were standing in every remaining space.

There was barely space for all of us. Grandma's lawyer suggested that PompousPastor and AssPastor sit in chairs which were in the front of the room, next to himself. Since there was a large table in the room, this meant that the lawyer and these two Preachers were the only ones who were directly facing everyone else. Although the Preachers were gratified to be physically next to the center of attention, they did not notice, as all of the rest of us quickly noticed, that these seats made it easy for everyone else in the room to watch them closely, and practically impossible for them to leave the packed-to-more-than-overflowing room before the entire meeting was over, because they were farthest from the room's single door, and there were almost two dozen people standing or sitting between them and their only path to escape.

The bequests were quite generous, but pretty much what we had expected. Grandpa kept their house, its contents, their retirement accounts and everything that remained after all of the bequests had been satisfied. Children, grandchildren and several local charities received nice, but not extravagant, amounts of money. Several sentimental items were named and given to various friends and relatives.

Grandpa was first beneficiary listed in the will. But, after him, all of the other bequests were arranged in order of increasing worth. They started with sentimental items, which had very small cash value. Then each grandchild received several thousand dollars, then each son, daughter, brother, sister, niece and nephew received a little more, then several local non-profits received very nice amounts, etc.

Bequests to BigWhiteChurch, PompousPastor and AssPastor were (almost) the last ones listed in the will. They listened politely to the other bequests, but with steadily growing anticipation, as they noticed the exponential upward trend in Grandma's largess.

When Grandma's lawyer got to the BigWhiteChurch and Preachers' part of the will, he said, "This is a bit unusual, but before I announce these bequests to BigWhiteChurch, PompousPastor and AssPastor, Ms [Grandma's name] requested that I read the following statement to everyone present."

He opened a letter that was written in Grandma's own handwriting...

"For the past 10 years, NOT ONE person from BigWhiteChurch has ever called me, come to visit me or sent me a note to tell me that they cared about me. Not one minister, not one deacon, not one of the church women, not one of the church members who I worked with for all of those years, loved dearly and thought were my friends. I worked very hard for you when you needed me, for many, many years. But when I needed you and your church, you all pretended that I didn't exist."

"I only got one visit. When I was dying and I invited PompousPastor to come to my house and help me plan my funeral."

"This was my last attempt, after many attempts that I had made over the past 10 years, to reach out to my church and Pastor, whom I still loved dearly even though they had made it clear that they did not love me. If only I could have my funeral at my church, maybe some of my church friends, whom I had not seen in a decade, would come to the service to see me one last time. And I know they loved to hear PompousPastor preach, so if he preached at my funeral, maybe they would come to my funeral to hear him, even if they would not have come to see me.

But PompousPastor couldn't find the time to visit me, or even call me to tell me whether or not he was willing to preach at my funeral. AssPastor came by my house, but he didn't want to talk about my funeral. He just wanted me to, 'Remember his church in my will'. That's all. Just, 'Remember his church in my will'".

"It was then that I realized that I had allowed my church to break my heart for one last time. But that was the last time. The VERY last time."

"AssPastor did not know it when he visited me, but Grandpa and I had already prepared my will, long before his visit, which did include a double tithe - TWENTY PERCENT - of my ENTIRE ESTATE, for what was now my former ... FORMER ... church ... BigWhiteChurch.

This amount was [named the amount - an enormous shitload of money - generating muffled "wows" from many of her heirs, including me].

"But I got to feeling badly that we had not personally remembered such nice people as PompousPastor and AssPastor. So I changed my will to include them by name. While I was at it, I changed the amount of money that I left to BigWhiteChurch to match all of the love that they have showed to me during the last 10 years of my life, when I was suffering and lonely, and no longer able to work my ass off for them, for free, like I had done for almost half a century."

"That is her entire written statement", the lawyer said. "Now let's get back to the bequests in the will."

"Bequest to AssPastor: One Cent".

"Bequest to PompousPastor: One Cent".

"Bequest to BigWhiteChurch: One Cent".

The PompousPastor and AssPastor sat there looking like someone had just injected a gallon of novacaine into their jaws.

Every one of Grandma's family and friends felt an overwhelming urge to laugh out loud. But we kept quiet because we knew Grandma. We knew she wasn't finished yet. Grandma was simply setting them up for a one-two punch. The best was yet to come, and we didn't want to miss it.

"There is one last bequest," the lawyer continued, "For a charity called ...", which he named and I'll call "BlackCharity", then he paused before naming the amount....

Most of us had no idea what BlackCharity was. But, by the looks on their faces, we could tell that PompousPastor and AssPastor knew BlackCharity very well. Their faces displayed the same expressions of shock, dread and horror that they would have if the lawyer had said, "This bequest goes to The Demonic Baby Eaters to buy extra large rotisserie barbecue grills and tons of charcoal".

Every eye in the room was now fixated on PompousPastor and AssPastor.

The lawyer, who happened to be my uncle, one of Grandma's and Grandpa's sons, let the silence continue a few seconds more....

If we had been able to read PompousPastor's and AssPastor's minds, we would have known the history behind the looks on their faces. BlackCharity was sponsored by a large Black church just a few miles from BigWhiteChurch. They ran a free food/clothing bank, assistance programs for foster children, home delivery of pre-cooked meals for homebound seniors, legal aid, and other social services.

A long time ago, BigWhiteChurch, which was (and still is) 100% Caucasian, had provided a few years of financial and other support to BlackCharity. Then there was a very bitter, acrimonious breakup, allegedly because BlackCharity was practicing "The Social Gospel", while BigWhiteChurch was preaching "The True Gospel". BigWhiteChurch even sued to try to get some of their money back, although the suit was eventually settled and very little money actually changed hands.

But, this being The Deep South, everyone knew the real reason why BigWhiteChurch, or any white church, would stop supporting a Black charity: "Those n****** were getting uppity and not staying in their place". Grandma and Grandpa had seriously considered leaving BigWhiteChurch at that time. But they had reasoned that it was better to stay there and teach tolerance by their words and example. They knew they would never persuade everyone, but maybe they could reach some of the youth at their white church and break the generational cycle of racism. Grandma used to tell us, "My church is my Mission Field". We did not learn the true depth of her statement until after she died.

Since then, Grandma and Grandpa had secretly sent a portion of their "Tithe" to BlackCharity every month.

Most of Grandma's family, including me, didn't find out about any of this until after the meeting had ended.

But PompousPastor and AssPastor obviously understood what Grandma, by her actions which are more powerful than words, was saying to them. If you had grown up as a white person in the Deep South, as Grandma, Grandpa, PompousPastor and AssPastor had, you would understand.

To many white Southerners, this was one of the most personally insulting things you could do to them. It simultaneously labeled them as racists, condemned their bigotry and crushed their delusions of white superiority by saying, "These Black human beings, whom you hate, disrespect and have mistreated, are better people than you are. So they deserve my money more than you do".

Having allowed time for everyone to observe PompousPastor and AssPastor while they thought about how their white church had treated this Black charity, and how they AND their church had treated our Grandma...

The lawyer said, "The amount is...."

Then he named the EXACT SAME AMOUNT that Grandma had named in her handwritten letter, the huge amount of money that would have gone to BigWhiteChurch if she had not changed her will.

(source) story by (/u/BamaFan4Jesus)

#prorevenge #by /u/BamaFan4Jesus #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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honey-dewey · 4 years ago

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Family Reunion

Pairing: Javier Peña /Reader

Word Count: 2,702

Warnings: mentions of canon-typical violence, probably inaccurate Spanish, but otherwise none! This is all fluff!

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Returning home is hard, but with you by Javier’s side, he can face anything. Including a Peña family reunion.

“I’m really not sure about this.”

You laughed, putting a hand on top of his and watching the Texas countryside pass you by. “Javi, it’s two days. What could possibly go wrong?”

Javier sighed. “Ay dios míos, you’re gonna regret saying that.”

The Peña family ranch was all set up for the reunion, and for the first time in a long time, Javier was actually able to go. He pulled up the driveway, face already scrunching as three women rushed out and stood eagerly on the edge of the driveway. “Here we go.”

Immediately, as soon as Javier’s feet hit the pavement, the three women were upon him, hugging and squealing that they’d missed him. You grinned, stepping out of the car and simply watching as Javier tried to brush off his sister’s affection.

Finally, once they were all done greeting Javier, he pulled you close to his side. “These are my older sisters, Maria, Cynthia, and Patricia.”

You smiled. “Pleasure to meet you all. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Cynthia bounded back into the house, apparently eager to tell everyone Javier was home. Maria, who you were pretty sure was the oldest, helped you and Javier grab your bags and take them inside. While Javier got lost in the sea of family members who hadn’t seen him in a decade, you found near silence in Javier’s old bedroom, which was where you two would be sleeping.

“Y’know, Mamá couldn’t believe it when he called home to say he got married,” Maria said, setting Javier’s bag on his bed. “Our little Javi, all grown up and married.”

You put your bag down next to Javier’s. “Is he the youngest?”

“Nah,” Maria said, pointing to a framed photo on Javier’s nightstand. “Melissa and Lori are both younger than him.”

Examining the photo, you suppressed a grin. “He’s the only boy?”

Maria’s Cheshire grin grew. “Yeah.”

An unfamiliar woman poked her head into the room. “Is this Javi’s spouse?”

You nodded.

“Ah!” The woman pulled you into a tight hug. “Hi! I’m Melissa!”

“Lissa!” Javier said, and Melissa put you down with a pout. “Bájalos, ahora.”

Another call of Melissa’s name, and she was racing out of the room with a cheerful laugh, Maria hot on her heels.

Javier fell onto the bed, and you pulled the door shut, falling next to him. “Home sweet home,” he groaned, putting his hands over his eyes.

You rolled over and ended up laying on Javier’s chest, resting your ear on his collarbones. “I like it,” you said softly.

After a few minutes of simply enjoying each other’s company, a loud shout echoed through the house, disrupting your peace. “Lori’s home!”

The house began to bustle, but you stayed on top of Javier, keeping him trapped. He didn’t seem to mind, and actually wound an arm around your back to keep you secure. Voices filtered around you, but they were fuzzy, like they were underwater or behind a closed door.

Finally, someone opened the door to Javier’s bedroom. “Hijo?”

“Si mamá?”

Javier’s mother looked at you on top of him and smiled. “Lori is home. Do you want to say hello?”

Javier sighed, and you laughed as you were lifted up as he breathed in. “Yeah, I’ll come say hi.”

He stood, and you stood with him. “Come on. You’ll like Lori.”

Lori, if you remembered correctly, was the youngest and the most mature. She looked damn near identical to Javier, despite her feminine features and the fact that she was clearly younger.

“Ah, you must be Javi’s spouse!” She said, shaking your hand. “Damn, Javi really knows how to pick them!”

You laughed. “Thank you, but I think I picked him.”

Lori smiled. “Of course. C’mon! Can you bake?”

Turned out, Lori needed help with the pies, and you and her spent almost half an hour making various pie crusts and fillings. Javier tried to help for a few minutes, but he got dragged off to help somewhere else. You waved as he went, following one of the younger cousins.

“So, how was Columbia?” Lori asked, mixing another apple pie mix in a glass bowl.

You took a breath, continuing to knead lest your emotions get the better of you. “Hard,” you finally admitted. “Very hard. I wasn’t even in the thick of the fighting most times, but it was harder than anything I’ve ever done. We had to move four times, and we caught bombs in Javi’s car on two separate occasions. It was a good day if no one shot at him, and then there was all that shit with Los Pepes.”

“Oh I heard about that,” Lori said sadly, grabbing another pie pan. “That must’ve been hell for him, not being there when they finally put a bullet in Escobar.”

“Steve called us immediately,” you said. “The body was still warm, I don’t think the news knew yet. But we did. Javier cried.”

Lori shrugged. “What’s he gonna do now?”

You looked around, making sure the kitchen was empty. “Going back.”

“What?”

You nodded. “They’re sending us back, something about the Cali cartel? I dunno, but apparently it’s big and it’s a problem. They want Javi because, well, he’s had connections with those people.”

“Oh,” Lori breathed, passing the pie to you so you could lattice it. “That’s awful.”

“That’s government work,” you said with a sigh.

Before Lori could speak again, Javier came back with two men, one of whom put an arm around Lori’s waist.

“David, this is Javier’s spouse,” Lori said, smiling as the man kissed her cheek. “The one who was working with the DEA.”

David nodded to you. “Pleasure. I’d shake your hand, but,”

You grinned, holding up your pie crust covered hands. “I’ll spare you the feeling.”

“And this is my cousin Chris,” Javier said, leaning on the counter and watching you expertly lattice the pie in front of you. “How many of those are you making?”

“Three apple, two cherry, one pecan for Cynthia, one blueberry, and a peach pie for Javi.”

Javier lit up. “I thought you weren’t making a peach pie!”

Lori laughed. “Beth brought Georgia peaches, so I had to.”

Chris opened the oven, examining the pies. “Damn, these look divine.”

“Off,” Lori said, giving Chris’s hands a light smack with a wooden spoon. “These are for dessert!”

Once you were finally done and the pies only had to be baked, you were able to wash your hands and sit on the couch. Javier sat next to you, along with a few aunts and uncles you didn’t know. Javier’s father sat in a recliner, his mother sat on a loveseat, and beside her sat a wonderful old woman who you quickly learned was Javier’s grandmother. You closed your eyes, leaning against Javier’s shoulder and dozing a bit. You didn’t fall asleep, but damn you wanted to. Conversation filtered around you, but you didn’t pay much attention.

People came and went, and eventually, everyone was moving outside. Javier nudged you to awareness and you blinked blearily in the Texas sunlight as you followed him outside.

“Veteran DEA agent, bothered by a bit of sunshine,” Javier teased, handing you his aviators. “Ain’t you a sight.”

You huffed at him. “Don’t make me regret saying yes to marrying you,” you said, waving to Patricia and Melissa.

Lunch was a happy affair. You sat beside your husband, chatting eagerly with some of his cousins. His sisters sat with you, happily telling you stories about Javier that made him turn red and you bend over with laughter. Finally, once they’d had their fun embarrassing him, Cynthia, Maria, and Lori all left to go oversee some game the young cousins were playing. Melissa leaned over the table and grinned, Patricia already rolling her eyes.

“Javi,” she said sweetly, fluttering her eyes. “Have you taken Bella out yet?”

“Bella?” You asked, seeing Javier copy Patricia’s eye roll. “Who’s Bella?”

Melissa pointed to the stables that the ranch had. “Javi’s horse. She’s getting old, but she still runs.”

“She’s thirteen,” Javier said. “Not old.”

Patricia smiled. “Javi managed to get her off a man trying to sell her for meat,” she explained to you. “Right up until the day he left for Columbia, she was his pride and joy. Brought her back basically from the dead.”

You tried to imagine Javier caring deeply about a horse, deeply enough to save her. Unsurprisingly, the thought came easy. “Bella, it’s a beautiful name.”

“Short for Belladonna,” Javier said. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

The ground was warm beneath your feet, still bare because you hadn’t had time to put shoes on before lunch. The Peña stables didn’t have many horses, maybe three or four. Right at the end was a stall painted with gorgeously intricate vines and flowers, the belladonna plant. Javier leaned over the door, whistling.

The effect was almost immediate. He was shoved from the door, a black horse pushing him out and butting against his body, searching him.

“Bella!” He said happily, scratching behind Bella’s swiveling ears. “Hello! Did you miss me?”

Bella snorted.

“I know, I missed you too,” Javier said, lost in his own little world. “Hey, guess what! I got married. Mhm, I think they’re perfect too.”

You smiled, leaning against the wall and watching Javier talk to Bella. “She’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Javier said. “C’mon, I’ll take you on a ride.”

He introduced you to another horse, Bella’s neighbor Aristotle. Aristotle was well behaved, and within no time, you were sitting in the saddle and following Javier down a trail. Aristotle was an easy ride, and it helped that you had some prior riding knowledge. Javier, however, was leagues above you, riding as if he’d been doing it his whole life. Which you supposed he had.

“The ranch is huge,” Javier said, leading you through a section of forest. “But even if it wasn’t, we’re all good friends with the neighbors, and they don’t mind when we ride on their land.”

You left the forest and entered a large field that stretched on for miles, a wooden fence bisecting the field. “Is that where the neighbor’s property starts?” You asked, pulling Aristotle to a stop on the edge of the woods.

“That’s still ours,” Javier said. “Technically the neighbor’s land starts at the end of the field on the other side of the fence, but the fence was there when we bought the land and no one wants to take it down.”

You nodded. “How far is it back to the ranch?”

Javier looked at you, confused. “Twenty minutes at a steady trot, maybe thirty at a walk, why?”

Pushing Javier’s aviators up your nose and wiggling in the saddle, you grinned. “Over the fence, race you back!”

Just like that, you were off. Aristotle seemed just as joyful as you as you leapt the fence with ease, using what little riding knowledge you had. Javier caught on to your game and followed suit, laughing as Bella and Aristotle raced side by side.

The trail was likely too dangerous to keep this pace at, but if you weren’t mistaken, you could wind around the forest, staying at your pace. Abandoning Javier at the path, you cut a sharp turn, feeling the wind on your skin as you laughed.

True to your thoughts, within ten minutes, you were coming up on the ranch with no Javier in sight. Jumping the fence yet again into the riding ring, you pulled Aristotle to a stop, jumping down and stroking his nose.

Maria and Cynthia ran up to you as you straightened your shirt. “What happened?”

The sound of hooves alerted you to the return of your husband. “Javier and I went for a ride. I challenged him to a race home. He lost.”

Javier stopped Bella beside you, looking you up and down as he slid out of his saddle. “That was some damn impressive riding,” he said. “Congrats.”

You grinned. “C’mon, let’s put these two away and relax.”

Of course, in the Peña house, there was no such thing as relaxing. You and Javier were halfway to the porch when Javier was hit in the back with a water balloon. He turned, back dripping. Melissa and Patricia both pointed at each other, barely containing their laughter.

“Oh hell no!” Javier said, taking off his shoes and smiling. “Get back here!”

He chased after his sisters, both of which ran away, shrieking with laughter. You sat on the porch swing, watching Javier grab a water balloon and throw it. His aim was off, so instead of hitting Patricia, he hit Maria, who immediately joined the fight as well. Within minutes, all six Peña kids were throwing water balloons at each other and laughing. It was such an innocent sight, and it made you sigh. How long would you be in Columbia fighting the Cali Cartel? When would Javier get a chance to laugh like this again?

A shriek pulled you from your thoughts as Maria took control of a garden hose and began to aim it mostly at Javier, catching Lori and Cynthia in the process of soaking her brother. Javier ducked away from the hose spray, and Melissa snuck around Maria’s back and stood on the hose. It was a simple trick, but one Maria fell for, looking into the hose and immediately getting a face full of water.

“Niños!” Javier’s mother yelled, coming out of the house. “Que estás haciendo?”

“Jugando, Mamá!” Javier called, sitting up in the grass from where he’d been play wrestling with Cynthia, entirely soaked and decently muddy. “Melissa lo inició.”

“Did not!”

“Did to!”

“Niños!” Javier’s mother said again, trying to cut the childish bickering off. “Lavarse!”

“Si Mamá!” The chorus of six voices called back. Javier was up first, shaking like a wet dog and trotting over to the house, followed by his sisters.

Ten minutes later, a significantly cleaner Javier was sitting next to you, his hair still wet and in completely different clothes. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said softly, watching the large extended family gather for dinner.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

Javier took your hands. “You only ever use that tone when something is really wrong. What is it?”

You shrugged. “Just wondering when we’ll be back here. Will it be years, like last time?”

“Not if I can help it,” Javier said softly. “Hey, look at me cariño. This won’t be like last time, okay? I swear it. We’ll be home soon.”

Nodding, you kissed Javier, running a finger over his ring. “I love you.”

Javier smiled, kissing your forehead. “I love you more.”

You leaned against him, taking in the setting sun and the bustling happiness of the yard. Someone started playing music, and you perked up. “Oh! I love this song!”

Javier tipped his head, trying to figure out what was playing. “I don’t know this.”

“It’s from the mid sixties,” you said, standing and tugging Javier to his feet. “Never charted, but my mother loved it.” You started to sway with the happy music, and Javier copied your movements. “Hey, hey, hey, lover, you don't have to be a star,” you sang, making Javier smile. “Hey, hey, hey, lover, I love you just the way you are.”

Javier moved his hands to your waist, and you put your forearms on his shoulders, still swaying and singing. “For love is just the same, without fortune and fame. Just give me true love and understanding. True love and understanding.”

The song kept playing, and you kept singing, dancing with Javier on the porch. About halfway through the song, someone interrupted you. “Hey, dorks!”

You jumped, almost knocking into Javier and hurting him. “Jesus! A warning next time!”

Maria grinned. “Mamá says it’s time to eat, and if you don’t come down, she’ll feed your portion to the dogs.”

Javier smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like Mamá. C’mon, let’s eat.”

You took Javier’s hand, following him off the porch, still singing lightly as the grass crunched under your feet and the warm Texas breeze rippled your clothes.

“Hey, lover, treat me good and nice, and it will be alright. Just give me true love and understanding. True love and understanding.”

#Narcos #Javier Pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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swanpyart · 3 years ago

Text

The Short Lived Adventures of RAPH and Casey Jones

This is an old pic that was made for a zine that was never published. So I’ll leave it here. It might not ever be finished, but I think the story is decent enough on its own.

Part 1:

Casey was completely fine by herself.

Sure, her parents never really paid her any mind, but she never needed them to; Casey was a fast learner, and was able to cook, clean, and do pretty much anything the adults could do.

“Look!” Ten-year-old Casey held up an English vocabulary test, with an “100%” written in the corner in cursive. “I passed!”

“Honey,” her mother barely looked at her from her seat at her desk, “One hundred percent is the bare minimum. Anything less means you practically failed.”

There was always an empty space in the bleachers whenever Casey had a hockey game. She would cross her arms as she waited for her parents to pick her up and watched as the people in the audience rushed down and hugged their own children after a game, regardless of whether they won or lost. When her parents finally showed up, she sat in the car quietly as they drove.

Casey spent almost everyday after school at her Granny’s while her parents were at work. The old woman’s house was always warm, mostly because she was always baking; cakes, cookies, and especially her famous brownies - made with a special ingredient.

At twelve years old, Casey had failed a math test for the first time, and burst into tears as she walked through her Granny’s front door. “I’m a failure!”

“Sweetie, everyone fails every now and then,” her Granny wiped a tear from Casey’s cheek and got out an antique mixing bowl, “but I can tell you tried really hard. That’s what matters; that you don’t stop trying your best.”

Afterwards, Casey and her Granny spent the afternoon baking brownies, and that was when she was granted the knowledge of the secret ingredient. She swore her secrecy and never told anyone.

Of course, that was a while ago; her grandmother had passed away sometime afterwards. Her parents reacted with more emotion when Casey had shaved her head than when they attended the funeral.

They also seemed only mildly surprised when, at thirteen years old, Casey was accepted into the Foot Clan and never came back home.

There, Casey promised to herself to show the world just how much of a not-failure she really is! Even if she had to work with the most vile Clan in all the world to achieve it and release the Shredder, the ultimate evil, unto the world. She had worked above and beyond to get where she is, and no one could stop her!

At least, that’s what she thought before the Shredder disappeared, and with him, the Clan’s purpose. And way before those strange, overgrown turtles with no sense of honor or discipline showed up and destroyed their chances, time and time again.

Suddenly, the group she had worked with since she was a preteen, and the closest thing she had to any family, were dragged away by outside obligations she never understood.

Foot Brute and Lieutenant were better parents than her own, but, in the end, they were her bosses and coworkers, and no replacement for a family.

Sure, everyone else may have given up, but she would stay committed to the Clan’s ultimate vision, even if she had to use her dear Granny’s recipe for evil. Grandma CJ’s Brownies were an absolute bust, but she had to try something.

Then, she met this weird, giant, smelly rat with a Japanese accent dressed like a teenager who somehow turned out to be the father of those overgrown turtles.

And, as weird as it was, despite not even being human, he sat next to her and heard what she had to say; and, for those few minutes, it was almost like being next to her Granny again.

“Just because you failed doesn’t make you a failure.”

If she had been smarter, maybe she should have listened a bit harder to what he was saying. If she had been smarter, maybe she would have calmed down and talked to the girl that was beating up the Girl Scouts. There were so many opportunities to just talk.

But then the Shredder was restored, and she really thought it would be the return of her Clan’s glory. Even as she looked at the beaten down forms of her previous bosses. Even as she saw Splinter and his family struggling for their lives. Even as she realized winning would mean the end of everything, including her.

There was no more Clan. She was still alone. She was just alone with a giant evil suit of demon armor.

But, now, she wasn’t.

Even after everything, Splinter offered her an invitation into their...

Family.

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He had invited her to the lair a few weeks after the fight with Shredder.

“I’m working at the Foot Shack. After my former clan disbanded, they got bought out by another company, Splinter, sir.” She squeezed the mug of tea in her hands.

“Just ‘Splinter’ is fine,” Splinter had opened a bag of chips, and was reclining in his seat. The turtles were out with April at the arcade, taking a break from repairing the lair. “Where are you staying? Do you have a place to live?”

“Yes, I actually have my own apartment.”

There was a moment of awkward silence. Splinter sighed. “Listen, Casey, I know that it’s probably hard having to... uh, sort things out by yourself-”

“What?! No, I’m fine!” She flapped her hand dismissively. “My life is fantastic! It’s definitely not in complete shambles after losing everything I know.” She blinked, realizing that she overshared, and collected herself. “I’m doing great.”

“I-I never said it was in shambles,” He massaged his temple with two clawed fingers, his beady eyes squinting in frustration. “Look, all I am saying is that, if you ever need help, or if you ever get lonely and just want to talk, I am here. And my sons would probably say the same thing. You’re a Hamato now, at least in spirit.”

Casey’s eyes widened, then she looked down. “Thank you, but I’m a very independent person. I’ll be sure to not bug you unless it’s an emergency.”

Splinter nodded, but he’d dealt with enough children to see that Casey was a bit lonely. Still, he said nothing.

For a good while, Casey stuck to what she said; she didn’t really come by the lair unless she really felt the need to or if they needed an extra set of hands with repairing.

But… occasionally, she found herself asking questions. She found out Michelangelo loved cooking, and somehow he got her to agree to bake her Granny’s brownies together. She realized that Leonardo wasn’t just annoying in battle, but all the time, and that she started getting more and more used to it, even occasionally laughing along. She found out while playing video games with them, that Donnatello was just as vicious as her, and that April was equally as competitive.

And Raph, well… they didn’t talk very much. But he seemed nice every time they spoke.

But she kept her distance. After all, it was better if she didn’t get too attached.

She occasionally goes down to the local hockey rink and plays a few rounds with total strangers, and usually gets kicked out due to a combo of delinquent children and complaining parents.

So, here she is, lying on her bed, staring blankly at her phone, with a half eaten sandwich laying on her chest, and old sweatpants that she’s been wearing for a week because her clothes are in the laundromat. For a ninja-slash-ex-cult-member, her life had fallen into a fairly mundane pattern.

Everything could always be worse. So why did she still feel like such a failure?

And for some reason, Casey found herself at the sewer grate. She didn’t even know why she came here, really.

She was about to turn back when a feminine voice spoke from behind her. “Hey, CJ, what’s up?”

She spun around. It was April.

“I was just coming to visit.” Casey tensed up. She hadn’t expected to run into someone else.

“Oh, me too!” She opened up the grate, and started climbing down the ladder. “You coming or what?”

Casey gulped. She couldn’t back out now.

------------------------------------------------------

Raph paced the lair, quietly groaning as he tapped his chin.

It had been about six months since the fight with Shredder, but another challenge had presented itself; cleaning up the lair after it had been almost completely demolished. Thankfully, with Draxum’s help and Donnie being able to scavenge some old tech that didn’t get destroyed and whip up some devices for reconstruction, the place was finally fixed up after about a month and a half.

Now what? Well, in Leo’s words, it was the time for “rest and relaxation.”

That was pretty easy for the rest of his family to do.

Leo’s entire existence hinged on “rest and relaxation”; Mikey has an assortment of hobbies to keep him busy; Donnie had a tight schedule trying to repair all of his broken inventions; April was trying to adjust to all of the changes at school due to all of New York recovering from the recent Battle Nexus catastrophe; and Splinter, of course, was parked in front of the TV, finally at peace after the Shredder was defeated, and helping himself to milk and cake.

Raph should be relaxing, or at least recovering from all that’s happened to them. The fight with the Shredder was the most stressful and terrifying time of their lives. They lost their Gram-Gram, and even if she was now able to rest with their ancestors and her father, it still stung.

But it’s been such a long time since he’s been in a real fight, and he can tell he’s going a little bit stir-crazy.

Of course, the turtles would spend a lot of time out of the lair; but whenever Raph gets a call on the phone, he finds himself hoping it’s some kind of an emergency, only to turn out to be Todd calling them about the puppy farm, or Leo pestering Senior Hueso with an order for pick-up. It seemed like even their strongest enemies have gone on hiatus as well; there was no word of Big Mama as of late, and every other major bad guy they fought recently seemed to have been exhausted by the Shredder ordeal as well.

Raph’s usual sparring partner, Frankenfoot, is absolutely wonderful, but fighting him wasn’t exactly what Raph had in mind; it was fun, but couldn’t really be compared to the thrill of a real fight.

“Come on, guys,” Raph stood in front of the screen, blocking Leo and Mikey’s view of a Jupiter Jim rerun while Pops was passed out on the couch, snoring, a bag of chips lying open on his stomach. “We’ve been cooped up in the lair for a million years. Who wants to go wreck some bad guys?” He pounded his fist in his opposite hand for emphasis.

“Raph, I can’t see!” Mikey waved his hand in a dismissive way as he said it, and leaned to peek around his older brother and continue watching the screen.

“Ugh, we’ve been over this,” Leo exasperated from his spot on the ground, on his stomach and his head resting on his propped arms. “No crime fighting while we’re on vacation! This is the time to chillax, my guy.”

“How long are we gonna be chillaxing, exactly?” Raph put his hands on his hips, an inquisitive look on his face, even if, deep down, he knew what response he’d get.

“I don’t know, until some other crazy evil mutant guy tries to take over the city? There’s bound to be another one of those eventually.”

“What, so we just wait until some evil mastermind has some evil plan and gets all of New York in their evil clutches? It’s our job to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Raph tried to summon the energy he usually exudes when he attempts to make a rousing speech, but the rolling eyes and groans from his youngest brothers quickly made its effect futile.

“You know,” Donnie said from the back of the room, the other three having not noticed him walk in, “We did, oh, I don’t know, save all of New York City, take down Big Mama’s Battle Nexus scheme, and, most importantly, defeat our bloodline’s greatest enemy?!”

Raph furrowed his brow, his sharp fang digging into his lower lip.

“We deserve an indefinite break, and I need it, because I actually refuse to do any fighting until I have all my stuff back online. I’d love to fight with only my impeccable mind, but let’s be realistic.” The sandwich in his hand was brought to his face and he swallowed it whole. Donnie knew he had made an excellent point.

“Don’t worry,” Mikey beamed, tucking his arms and legs into his shell, “We’ll get back into the groove of things before you know it!”

“Yeah,” Leo agreed, “Think of it as, like, you know, self-care. Sometimes, you need a break from what you’re used to. Now, can you move out of the way?”

Raph sulked out of his siblings’ view of the screen and sunk into a beanbag, next to the couch their father was snoring in.

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“Hey, guys!” The turtles turn around to see April and... Foot Recruit walk in.

Raph didn’t really know what to think of Foot Recruit, or Casey, as she preferred to be called. Pops insisted that she wasn’t dangerous anymore, but it was hard for him not to be a little wary; I mean, come on, she used to work with the Shredder!

She’d been over only a handful of times over the past few months, usually to speak with Splinter and Mikey.

“Casey! April!” Mikey stuck his hands out of his shell in joy. He ran over and hugged them both. “It’s been a while.”

“Hey, Apes. And, hi to you too, Casey.” Leo kicked his legs up behind him.

“Above ground has been pretty hectic,” April leaned on Donnie’s shoulder as she spoke, “Everyone has been freaking out about disappearing from New York for a few days. Relaxing on a yacht sure beats coming back to the city in shambles. And finding another job is so hard when everyone’s paranoid we’re gonna all disappear again. Ugh, I wish we did, then I’d get another break!”

“Well, if you want a job, you can help me repair what’s left of my s- I mean, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. The Shredder tore him apart.” Donnie put his hands on his hips and relaxed his posture to cover his slip-up.

“Aw, your cute robot son isn’t repaired yet?” April teased.

As the two bickered while walking towards the lab, Raph looked back at Casey, who was standing by the entrance, visibly tense.

“Hey, Casey. Um, why are you here?” Raph asked innocently, not realizing how rude he sounded.

“Smooth,” Leo chimed in unhelpfully.

Before he could take it back, Casey spoke, with a glare on her face. “I’m here for the orange one.”

Raph blinked. “Huh?”

“We’re gonna bake brownies!” Mikey clarified, his chest puffed out with pride. “Casey decided that I’m worthy of learning an old family recipe.”

“Yes!” Casey grinned, in a way that was far too menacing for someone talking about brownies. “I decided that, as a new member of your- um…” clan? Group? Committee?

“...Family?” Raph assisted.

“Uh, yes, that,” she turned shy for a few brief seconds, only to return to her previous bravado, pumping her fist in the air, “I will honor you with the knowledge of my grandmother’s most nefarious secret!”

------------------------------------------------------

Raph peeked into the kitchen as Mikey and Casey got to work. Of course, he trusted Mikey; but he had a hunch that Casey might be up to something.

Or maybe the boredom was just making him a bit more paranoid than usual.

Dirty dishes, half-full cups and brownie mix were strewn about the kitchen counter. Whatever this recipe pertained, it must be pretty intense.

“And, now, for the final ingredient. This one was given to me by my grandmother.” Casey pulled a canister of brown powder. She leaned over and whispered close to Mikey’s head. Whatever she was saying, Raph couldn’t hear.

Mikey gasped. “PUMPKIN SPICE?!”

Casey shushed him, then yelled herself. “It’s a secret, remember?!” She poured a generous amount into the mixing bowl full of batter.

The two of them looked so happy baking together, and Raph felt a pit of guilt in his stomach for assuming the worst. He really needed to chill out.

------------------------------------------------------

“Wait, so let me get this straight,” Leo sunk into the bean bag chair, “You’re a fan of Lou Jitsu, right?”

“That is correct.” Casey was sitting stiffly in her seat. Her expressions were intense, like she was about to strangle someone, but Raph had realized pretty quickly that this was just her default.

“You have all of the movies memorized?”

“Of course! I used his guidelines for self improvement in my schemes to take over the world! I mean, that’s not really relevant now, but-”

“And you said you spend almost all of your available money on Lou Jitsu merch?”

“I hide them all so my guests don’t see.”

“And, yet, you’ve never watched a Jupiter Jim film? The Jupiter Jim, his longtime franchise rival and co-star in Jupiter Jim Vs Lou Jitsu?” Leo clutched at his chest, as he held up the DVD case of the movie he was talking about for emphasis.

“Leo,” Raph warned, looking up from his phone, “don’t make her feel bad-”

Leo chuckled. “Oh ho ho, trust me I won’t. I’m definitely putting on a Jupiter Jim Vs. The Galaxy Riders Part 1 and Part 2, and you are going to love it!”

Casey cackled ominously. “You really think this ‘Jupiter Jim-’” She made quotation marks with her fingers for emphasis, “-can measure up to the greatness that is Lou Jitsu? Fine, I guess we’ll just have to see.”

Raph ended up dozing off after the fifth film, and woke up to see Casey and his brother still openly debating whether Lou Jitsu would beat Jupiter Jim if they were both in a desert completely unarmed and at full strength.

------------------------------------------------------

“I’m not scared of much,” Donnie mentions offhandedly one day, while Raph was doing a bicep curl, “but she -”

He points to Casey eating a sandwich like a hyena, while April sat next to her, texting.

“She terrifies me to no end.”

Donnie’s strange relationship with their new friend took Raph a while to comprehend. Then it became clear as day. If anyone could match Casey in moral ambiguity, it was his immediate younger brother.

“I made you a little gift,” the softshell grinned smugly, as he handed Casey what looked like a metal hockey stick.

“Oh, um,” Casey's eyes were wide, and a little watery, and her lips were in a warbly smile. “Thank you… no one’s ever given me something so nice.”

Donnie grinned. “Press the button on the side.”

When she did, the widest end of the hockey stick flipped open like a lighter, and a stream of fire shot out of the tip. Casey’s tears of joy gave way to maniacal laughter. “Those kids at the hockey rink won’t know what hit ‘em!”

Donnie joined her in glee, his eyes and teeth shining menacingly in the light of the flames. Raph watched in mild horror (He was plenty used to Donnie’s antics), at least until the fire alarm sounded and they were all drenched from the sprinklers.

------------------------------------------------------

Another month had passed since Casey started coming around, and Raph seemed like the only one in the lair who hadn’t quite jived with her yet. Sure, his suspicion had pretty much subsided, and he liked her company plenty, but the two of them hadn’t really clicked.

However, he noticed some slight changes over time. Casey’s eyes had bags under them which were more obvious in brighter lights, and sometimes she fell asleep on April’s shoulder (and snored louder than his Pops, somehow). Sometimes, there were hints of sadness on her face, even when she was laughing along with everyone.

Raph didn’t mention it for fear of being rude, but he couldn’t help his concern. After all, if she was upset, she probably wouldn’t mention to him all of the people.

------------------------------------------------------

Hockey wasn’t a sport Raph and his brothers knew much about, but he couldn’t help but get excited as Casey gushed about it, holding tightly onto the treasured tech-hockey stick Donnie had gifted her, wearing a huge grin on her face.

The two humans and four turtles (disguised as humans, of course) were just entering the hockey rink. The hall to the auditorium was cold and echoey.

“I come here every other Friday. The regulars here know my face, and they fear it. It’s ‘cause they know I’ll decimate everyone in my path!” She pumped her fist as she spoke, a sinister grin on her face, before she caught herself and straightened out. “Well, I do until the rink’s supervisors kick me out for making a scene and being mean to children.”

“Don’t sweat it, Casey,” Donnie spoke up, “You’re not the only one whose been kicked out of establishments for scaring kids.”

“Uh huh, exactly!” April agreed a bit too eagerly, and Raph looked back to see the distant, traumatized look in her eyes, and he could tell she was remembering the screams of children and the sinister laughter of animatronics at a certain pizza joint.

The six teens got to the rink’s auditorium, and put their bags down on the bleachers. There weren’t too many people around.

Mikey whistled. “This place is massive!”

As Raph put on a maroon hoodie and pulled on his skates, Casey rolled onto the rink, over to a huddle of teenagers wearing hockey gear. “Hey!”

One of the teenagers - a boy with messy brown hair covering his eyes - responded. “Oh, you again. Guys, look, it’s that crazy girl from last week.”

“The name is Cassandra Jones!” Casey pulled down the hockey mask she was wearing and held up her stick. “I’m challenging you to another round! Did you really think you’d escape my wrath?!”

The kids started laughing. “You challenge us every time we’re here, and you always lose. What makes today so different?”

Casey laughed. “Well, for one thing, I’ve got my own team now, so you better get ready to go crying to your mommy!”

The group hadn’t stopped laughing, even as Casey walked back to the bleachers. Raph raised a brow. “Uh, what was all of that?”

She looked down. “Those are my enemies,” She clenched her fists, “A group of jerks who manage to beat me every time I come here.”

Raph paused for a second. The look on her face was determined, but had a hint of sadness to it. Raph understood how she felt; wanting to fight, but getting beaten down time and time again. He’d realized a while ago that he didn’t have to do it alone; and neither did she.

Raph put an arm around Casey’s shoulders, and cupped a hand to his mouth, shouting to the teenagers from across the rink. “Hey, knuckleheads! You get ready for a match; you’re not just dealing with Cassandra Jones anymore! you’re dealing with the Mad Dogs, now!”

“Yeah, right!” One of the kids, a girl with a ponytail, shouts back.

He turned to face his brothers and April, who were sitting on the bleachers, their attention already on Raph from his shouting. “Hey, those guys over there are saying we’re gonna lose! What do we say to that?!”

“Oh ho ho, I like this energy!” Leo stood up on the bleachers, joining in the hype. April and Mikey stood up beside him.

“Yeah, you chumps aren’t even at our level!”

“Ya’ll ain’t seen nothing yet!”

Donnie stood up slowly, his arms crossed from the cold. “Yeah, we’ll definitely beat you! But-” He switched to his normal volume, “let’s not make promises we can’t keep.”

Raph dismissed him, and looked at Casey, who was smiling. Together, they were able to beat the Shredder. This would be a piece of cake.

------------------------------------------------------

“Are we done? My mom is here to pick me up,” One of the kids, a girl with pigtails, mentioned as she walked towards her belongings on the bleachers.

Raph was gasping for air from his spot on the cold ground. Hockey was hard. Like, really, really hard.

In hindsight, their loss made sense; this was the turtles and April’s first time playing hockey, and even Casey, who’d been playing since she was a kid, wasn’t able to beat these kids. They really were just that good.

“Is that all you’ve got?!” Leo had fallen in front of the goal, two huge purple bruises visible on his face; one on his forehead, and the other under his eye, popping out from his green skin and red birthmarks.

Mikey was crying on his knees, while April patted his shell, cussing out one of the kids who she felt pushed him too hard. Even as the kid was walking away. “And another thing-”

Donnie lay flat nearby, looking like a purple stain on the white shiny floor. He was never good at sports, but he tried. Geez, it was almost more embarrassing, with just how hard he tried.

------------------------------------------------------

They found a vending machine, and after Raph gave Leo a cold soda can to hold over his bruises, he walked past Casey, sitting with her head in her hands.

“Hey,” He placed a hand on her shoulder, and looked around to see if the others were watching. April, Mikey and Donnie were going off about losing the match, while Leo sat dejectedly in the corner, nursing his injuries. “Are you alright?”

She looked up, tears in her eyes, and her lower lip wobbling. She hastily rubbed at her face with her sleeve, her eyeliner smearing. “I’m...I’m fine.”

“Is this about us losing?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” She sighed. “It’s a lot of different things- It’s just…”

She trailed off, and Raph sat down next to her on the bleacher. He realized this had definitely been bubbling up for a while. If only he’d talked to her sooner.

“Ugh, all I’ve ever wanted was to be a success. Taking over the world was everything for me- helping the Foot, working for the Shredder, making that whole brownie pyramid-scheme. But now? I don’t have anything. I’ve hit rock bottom. Now, I’m stuck in a stupid rivalry with a bunch of kids in a hockey rink.”

She began to cry again. “What am I going to do? Am I just doomed to be a failure?”

“Just ‘cause you’re not taking over the world doesn’t make you a failure. Most people just stick to regular, everyday stuff and they turn out fine.”

“It’s not just about taking over the world,” Casey sighed. “I don’t have a purpose. No Clan, no commitments, no future. It’s like everything I do is a failure. I’m a failure.”

Raph felt himself start to tear up, too. What she was saying felt way too familiar. “You’re not the only one whose failed.”

“Huh?”

“My Pops told us we were supposed to die in order to protect the Dark Armor. We failed to do that, but we realized how messed up that was, and we decided to do our own thing. And it totally worked out for us, ‘cause we ended up destroying Shred-face once and for all.”

He stood, wiping the small tears from the corners of his eyes. “Think about it. So what that you don’t got a purpose? I get it, but your ‘purpose’ was handed to you by those Foot-faces. What do you wanna do? What do you wanna succeed at?”

Casey sat quietly for a few moments, thinking, and Raph feared that he might have said something hurtful. He was never as savvy with people as Leo or Mikey.

Then she spoke. “I spent all of my life trying to be the best, even if it meant being the biggest bad guy in the world. Now, I want to be the best good guy!”

Her expression softened. “I guess what I really want - I want to stop people who were like me once. I want to stop evil people who want to control others. But...how?”

Raph thought. Then, an idea struck him. “You and me can team up!”

“For what?”

“I was a vigilante for a little while. I mean, I used to be, but I guess since I was already part of a team, and with the whole Shredder thing, I just sort of stopped. But, since my bros are on hiatus, you and me could fight crime undercover!”

Casey was looking at her lap, her head bowed. Raph cleared his throat. “I mean, only if you wanna, it’s just a suggestion-”

“That sounds amazing.” Casey looked up at him in awe, her dark eyes glossy with unshed tears. Suddenly, she stands up, and pumps a fist into the air. “Raph and Casey, the most feared vigilante duo in all of New York!”

“Yeah, Go big or go home!” Raph pounded his fist into his other hand in excitement.

“Oh me gosh, stop yelling!” The two look behind them to Leo, still holding the can to his face. He turned in the direction of his twin. “Donnie, get me another can! This one’s warm!”

Casey was giving him a big smile, a far cry from her previous mood. Raph smiled back. Finally, he’d be able to go out and fight crime again; and this time, he wouldn’t be at it alone.

#rottmnt #rottmnt raphael #rottmnt raph #rottmnt Casey jones #rottmnt casey #rottmnt foot recruit #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles

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zaffrenotes · 4 years ago

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[TRR] Kairos

Kairos - Part 12

Pairing: Liam x Riley, Liam x OC Series Rating/Warnings: 18+; language; series will include ns*w 🍋 scenes Chapter Rating/Warnings: G Author’s Note: * All main characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just borrowing them * Kairos (καιρός) is a word in Greek that translates to “the right time” or “the right moment to act” * Liam’s wife asks about “the one that got away” one night over dinner, and Liam recounts a relationship from his past * This is my submission for @wackydrabbles Prompt 89: This isn't what I had in mind, but okay. * Author’s Note 2: * I apologize if this chapter feels choppy; I haven't updated this story since January, and writing is H A R D, but I want to finish this AU. I know how it ends, I just have to *gestures at the air* get there. * Word Count: 1708

Catch up with previous chapters here

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed for this series): @ao719 @blackcatkita @debramcg1106 @ofpixelsandscribbles @callmeellabella @smalltalk88 @aestheticartsx @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @choiceskatie @darley1101 @dcbbw @gardeningourmet @iplaydrake @liamxs-world @rainbowsinthestorm @riseandshinelittleblossom @superharriet @texaskitten30 @theroyalheirshadowhunter @the-soot-sprite // @alyssalauren @clairexoxo100 @cordonianroyalty @cordonian-literature @gkittylove99 @gnatbrain @jared2612 @kingliam2019 @mom2000aggie @pink-diamond13 @princessleac1 @queenjilian @sfb123 @txemrn @yourmajesty09

The evening carried on, and it was nearly impossible for Liam to pull himself away from one conversation to the next. Most of the new suitors vied for his attention to make a good impression, various nobles edged their way into conversations to discuss official business, and his friends made every effort to steal him away for short reprieves. He was dancing when he caught a flash of Max’s dress near the edge of the dance floor.

Brief glimpses and glances of a link to Liam’s almost-love was all The Fates seemed to grant for the duration of the ball, despite his best efforts to carve out a moment with Max. The irony wasn’t lost on him; having found a connection to Elia after years had passed, without a way to speak with her sister. His hand warmed against his dancing partner’s palm as they waltzed with other couples.

“What’s troubling you tonight? Besides the obvious farce of this whole ordeal.” A pair of cherry red lips curled into a sympathetic grin, and Liam nodded in silent agreement. “Something other than counting steps is running through your mind.”

Liam adjusted his grip on Olivia’s hand as he led her across the floor, quickly scanning the crowd for another glimpse of Max. “I require the assistance of a dear friend,” he answered quietly, twirling her in a circle. “Someone who knows of secret passages in the palace to remain undetected, who can also speak with one of the new ladies at court.”

One of Olivia’s brows arched in Liam’s direction. “Has someone managed to catch your eye already?”

“Not the way you think,” he replied. “It’s a long story, and right now I’m grasping at straws, but it’s…something.” As Liam twirled his childhood friend in another circle, the expression in his eyes conveyed the seriousness of his request.

Olivia’s back tensed when she looked up to meet her friend’s gaze, though they moved effortlessly through the song. “What do you need me to do, Li?”

“There’s a young woman here, wearing a peacock ballgown. Her name is Max.”

“There’s some irony,” Olivia giggled. “Maxwell’s probably talking her ear off over her dress alone.”

“I haven’t been able to speak with her since we were introduced.”

“Tell me when and where, I’ll make sure you converse with her before morning.”

Liam shook his head at the suggestion. “That’s not the kind of conversation I need to have, Liv. I do need to speak with her though. It could mean cancelling the rest of the social season before it’s had a chance to begin, in a good way.”

Olivia arched her brow at Liam again, as the music began to come to an end. “I’m going to need a full story about this very soon, if she’s a means of ending the season.”

Liam let out an anxious laugh. “Soon enough, of course. Get her as close as possible to my office without being seen.” He looked over Olivia’s shoulder to see Bastien by the ballroom doors, nodding at him just before Bastien said something to another member of the Kings Guard. “Enjoy the rest of the ball, I’ve got to go over details for tomorrow’s events. Shouldn’t take longer than an hour.”

Nearly an hour after Liam departed the ballroom, he sighed with relief to enjoy the silence in his office once Regina and her team of event planners were satisfied with preparations for the garden party. He poured himself a bit of scotch in a glass as a nightcap, glancing at the clock on the wall. Most of the guests had ventured home while he went over checklists with Regina, minus the suitors and their sponsors that would live at the palace for the next several weeks.

Another weary sigh slipped past Liam’s lips as he returned to the ornate desk in the office, and he removed the cufflinks Madeleine had given to him as a gift. He rolled up his sleeves, trying to ignore the soft ticking of the clock, wondering if Olivia had managed to get a hold of Max. Princess Maria Amelita Xamira Basilio, who had a sister that went by the name Elia. There were too many similarities in her siblings names and the fact that Max looked so similar in appearance to Elia.

He’d opened the laptop on the desk and was about to type Elia’s real name into the search window, when there was a knock at the door. Liam rushed out of his seat to answer, loudly whispering a name when he turned the knob. “Olivia? Is that you?” He was surprised to see Max in the hallway by herself. “Your Highness, please, come in,” he said, stepping aside to let Max pass. “Did anyone see you?”

Max bowed her head to Liam as she stepped into his office. “No, Lady Olivia led me through a number of passages from my room, and distracted the very tall, silver-haired guard down the hall.”

Liam chuckled softly. “That would be Bastien. He’s always had a bit of a soft spot for Olivia, ever since we were children.” He closed the door shut before walking towards the liquor cabinet. “May I offer you something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” she replied, taking a seat in one of the small couches. “To what do I owe this clandestine invitation?”

Liam sat down in the matching sofa across from Max, clasping his hands together as he carefully chose what to say next. “Max, you and I are both aware of the reason you’re here, participating in the social season. Under other circumstances, I’m certain you would have caught my eye, just as you did earlier this evening.”

Max chewed a tiny spot of her inner cheek. “There’s a ‘but’, isn’t there?”

“The reason you caught my eye was because you bear a striking resemblance to someone I met several years ago, before I met and married my first wife, Riley. Someone who, until tonight, I thought was lost to me.”

“Are you saying I’ve got a secret twin you’ve already met? This isn’t what I had in mind, but okay.” She grinned conspiratorially at him. “Who’s this doppelgänger that’s stuck with you?”

Liam sucked in a breath before answering. “As it were, it’s your sister. Elia.”

Max blinked at him silently, her eyes welling up with glossy tears at the mention of her name. “You…you knew Elia? When? When did you see her? Have you heard from her?” The questions tumbled out all at once, as Max tried to compose herself.

He picked up a gilded box of tissues from a side table, offering it to her. Max pulled two from the box, dabbing at the corners of her eyes, waiting for a response. “It’s been a number of years,” he began. “She was vacationing in Greece, just before she was supposed to return to university to study law.”

Max stopped dabbing at her tears to look up and study Liam’s face. “Oh my god, it’s you. You’re the guy.”

Liam’s brows pinched together. “She mentioned me?”

“Very briefly,” she responded. “Only that she met someone that gave her a reason to laugh every day, and seemed to understand what she – what we,” she paused, motioning to herself, “were going through, being…high profile?”

“That’s one way to describe it,” Liam chuckled softly. “She never said outright that she was a princess, but after we parted ways, many of the things we shared in our conversations made sense.” He looked up to see a puzzled expression on Max’s face. “Her fluency in languages, the way she could tell stories about growing up in vivid detail while overlooking things like ‘I grew up in a palace’ or ‘my parents were especially strict with me and my siblings’…”

“Oh by the way, that’s because they’re the king and queen?” Max scoffed lightly, shaking her head.

“I tried to look for her, for quite some time after that trip,” Liam added. “Only…my efforts were in vain, as the names she used were all nicknames. Even her own name wasn’t fully hers. Elia de Leon.”

Max sniffled and the puzzled expression returned to her face. “De Leon? That’s…our great-grandmother’s name.”

“I suppose that makes sense as well, now that I’m familiar with your family name. Had I searched for Elia Basilio, I might have found out about the royal connection, not that it would’ve changed my opinion of her.” Liam ran a hand across his face, his jawline and chin already rough with stubble. “You haven’t heard from her since that summer either? Anyone in your family?”

“No,” Max answered. “When her personal guard called the morning he was supposed to escort her home, he told my parents the apartment was empty…that she must have snuck away the night before.”

“But I was with her until morning.”

“What?”

“I…” Liam hesitated, taking in a breath. “I had dinner with Elia the night before she was supposed to leave. We talked long into the night, and I told her I was a prince. I even offered to let her stay with me here to take more time and consider alternative options to create some distance with your parents.”

“Because they wanted to marry her off, right?”

“Correct,” Liam nodded. “She only told me it was for a political alliance, to put your family name in a positive light after Mariela’s marriage to someone caused trouble.”

Max sighed with indignation. “That guy, ugh. That’s a story for another evening.” She began to wring the tissue between her hands. “But you saw Elia the next morning?”

“Yes, in fact I was the one that slipped out while she was still sleeping, long after dawn. I stopped for a coffee in the café below where she’d been staying, on my way to return home as well, and I…” Liam paused, recalling the man in the café that morning, remembering the other patron. “You said she had a personal security guard assigned to her?”

“Beni…Benigno, yes,” Max replied.

“Do you have a photo of him?”

“I can do better than that,” Max answered, pulling her phone from the pocket of her cardigan. “He’s here as my security and chaperone for the duration of my stay.”

#the royal romance fanfic #the royal romance fanfiction #trr fanfic #trr fanfiction #the royal romance au #trr au #trr liam x oc #king liam x oc #wacky drabbles #wackydrabbles #playchoices fanfic #choices fanfiction #zaffrenotes writes

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darkmasterofcupcakes · 4 years ago

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That’s Not a Smoothie

Summary: After being absent for a week, Gandra Dee shows up to the latest FOWL meeting ten minutes late with Starducks...and an egg.

@promiseddifferent @halfshellkayla

Read on AO3: “That’s Not a Smoothie”

Order was one of, if not the, most important things to be concerned about, if you asked Bradford. That also included the order of maintaining a schedule. That was the main reason why he insisted on everyone in the inner circle of their organization attending daily meetings, even if they didn’t necessarily have any plans or upcoming missions to discuss relating to their plans for Scrooge McDuck and his family, or the missing mysteries his grandmother had been searching for.

To Bradford’s relief – and he would have to admit, genuine surprise – the various…specialists he had hired to be involved at the highest level of F.O.W.L. were all very capable of sticking to the schedule he had set up for them, with minimal complaints.

That being said, Bradford wasn’t heartless; he knew that there would be times when the people he hired would be too sick or injured to physically be present for meetings, and he understood that. So, he did allow for sick days – even allowing for up to seven days paid sick leave – with the only requirement being that the members of the organization needed to contact him to inform him of their absence. That way, he would know to work around the fact that any potential plans involving that particular agent would have to be scrapped prior to any discussions or planning sessions.

Agent Dee had been absent from the meetings for almost a full week, and only the first day was accounted for.

Bradford had even asked Rockerduck (who the young woman had formed an odd sort of camaraderie with, particular after the duck had returned from the Foreverglades with a baby butler of all things) if the missing agent had contacted him at any point in the past week, only to be told that Rockerduck hadn’t heard from her, either.

By now, Bradford was beginning to get suspicious.

He already had a feeling that there was something up with Gandra Dee – she’d been acting a bit oddly for months, though she often attempted to excuse her strange behavior by claiming she was tired or some other seemingly innocent excuse. The director hadn’t been pleased by this unprofessional behavior, but he had chosen to overlook it, seeing as it hadn’t really affected her work in any significant way, nor had it had any impact of the work of others. These unexplained absences, however, were another issue entirely, and Bradford had already made a mental note to speak with her about it when she did return; and he was certain she would, seeing how the organization was the only place where she knew she’d get what she needed for her various…science projects.

For the time being, however, there were more pressing matters to attend to – most notably, their mission to possess all of the remaining missing mysteries before Scrooge McDuck and his family went on another dangerous adventure to claim them.

They had been discussing – or rather, between the various distractions and interruptions, trying to discuss – a potential plan to go after what sounded like a promising lead in St. Canard, when the door to the meeting room suddenly opened up with no announcement or warning, much less a request for permission.

Expecting one of the Eggheads, Bradford turned away from the projector screen and towards the door, ready to say something about the interruption.

“I sincerely hope you have a very good reason for this interruption, whoever you are,” he said sternly as he turned.

Instead of the Egghead he’d been expecting, however, standing just outside the doorway was none other than Gandra Dee, holding what looked like a paper coffee cup from one of those chain cafes than Bradford couldn’t remember the name of in one hand, and….something in the other; he couldn’t exactly see what it was, probably some new invention of hers, considering how tightly she appeared to be holding it.

Gandra rolled her eyes at the scolding and stepped inside, kicking the door behind her before making her way over to her usual seat.

“Hey, be glad I even came in at all,” she half-said, half-snapped as she somewhat awkwardly tried to sit down with both her hands occupied. “I still feel like someone decided to treat my body like a tube of toothpaste, but you only give us a week of paid sick days, and unfortunately for me, I need the money more than I want to just stay in bed.”

Now that she was at the table, everyone could more easily see what else she was holding….and it was definitely not an invention, not in the traditional sense. While the other agents present stared, seemingly unable to say anything at the moment, Gandra shifted her body slightly to move from her arm to her lap what she’d been holding onto so securely: an egg. She wrapped one arm around the egg, holding it close to her body – presumably the provide additional heat – and appearing to make sure she was satisfied with the position before taking a sip from her coffee cup.

The first one to speak was Black Heron. “So, Agent Dee….what do you have there?”

Gandra finished drinking from her cup before answering, “…An espresso.”

The wry tone of her voice made it clear that she was well aware of what the older woman was actually referring to.

Bradford wanted to get back to the purpose of the meeting, but he could already tell that this latest development meant that nobody else present was likely to pay much attention to anything he said; and so he decided to put the discussion on hold, for the moment.

Besides, he had to admit, he also had a few questions regarding Gandra’s egg. And there was no doubt that the egg was actually hers – Gandra Dee had never expressed any disdain for children, and in fact was among the first to warm up to the Fountain-changed Jeeves (or Jay, as some of the members of the team had taken to calling him), but she was not the type to just….adopt someone else’s egg. Though, that did raise another question.

“So, who knocked you up?” Steelbeak inquired, asking the exact same question that Bradford had been waiting to ask, albeit in a way that was much less tactful than the director would have preferred.

The bluntness of the question received glares from everyone present, save the young woman who had been the recipient, though she had bristled for the briefest of moments upon being asked.

“Beats me,” said Gandra with a shrug, placing her coffee down on the table and wrapping the other arm around the egg as well, now holding it tightly against her torso with both arms. “I had a few too many drinks after going out one night, and I think you can all figure out what happened next.”

Something about her tone seemed to imply that there was more to the story than that, but Bradford supposed it wasn’t the time for pressing the issue. He would be keeping a closer eye on her activities when he could, however, at least when she was at headquarters; he couldn’t do much when she was at home, particularly considering she’d never given him her address, preferring to receive paychecks in person.

Bradford’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of baby babbling. Apparently Jeeves had woken up from the nap he’d been taking in Rockerduck’s arms, and was now showing clear interest in Gandra’s new egg, reaching for it and making grabbing motions with his hands.

The infant’s guardian took hold of his hands with one of his own, gently pushing them down.

“Jeeves, don’t touch that,” he told the young Franken-dog. “You don’t know where it’s been.”

“Sure we do – it’s been up Dee’s c-“

Bradford spoke again, abruptly cutting off whatever it was that Steelbeak was about to say. Whatever it was, he was certain it was not appropriate subject matter to be discussing in a workplace environment, and he said as much.

“Could we not discuss this at the meeting? Or, preferably, at all?” Bradford asked, with a tone that made it clear that this was an order, not a request.

The rooster opened his mouth, appearing ready to continue the conversation despite the order, only to snap it shut with an audible clank; presumably he recalled the fact that Bradford could, and would, force him to stop talking if need be. That at least took care of that problem, for the time being.

However, there was still another issue to attend to – the issue of Gandra Dee and this egg of hers. He didn’t need to ask if she intended to keep the child; the way she was cradling the egg, and particularly her venomous glare at the way the other agents were looking at it, as though expecting them to try and take it from her, was enough of an answer.

“Is this going to impact your work performance?” Bradford questioned, looking directly at Gandra and waiting until he knew she was actually listening before asking. He didn’t want there to be any confusion between them, or even just her trying to claim she hadn’t heard the question.

Without hesitation, Gandra shook her head.

“Definitely not,” she replied. There was a brief pause during which the smallest hint of uncertainty showed on her face, though it was very subtle. “I mean, I guess that I’m not really going to be that good for field missions until after it hatches, but it’s not like I’m usually put on those jobs anyway, right?”

Well, at least she was honest about the impact this was going to have on her ability to take on certain assignments….And she did have a point that she wasn’t usually sent on the more physical field missions – Bradford tended to prefer having his agents work with their strengths, and Gandra Dee’s strengths lied in computers and other technology that Bradford could never be bothered to figure out past the basics. Which, fortunately, meant that her new responsibility wouldn’t have too much of a direct impact on operations at FOWL, much less Bradford’s own plan to put an end to Scrooge McDuck’s adventuring once and for all.

“And I would assume that you’ll want a short maternity leave after the child is hatched?”

It took a few seconds before the young woman responded; the expression on her face made it look like she was thinking about the question, or possibly about how she was supposed to answer. Most likely, she was wondering if he would withhold her pay if she said she would need time away from work following the hatching. And, honestly, Bradford was quite insulted by the thought; he might be admittedly stern, but he knew how to run a proper business, including providing certain benefits if they were needed.

“Kinda, yeah. I mean, even if I’m doing experiments, still going to need to adjust to the whole thing,” Gandra finally replied after seeming to consider the question for a few moments. Her expression made it look like she was expecting some form of argument, and it melted away to shock when Bradford immediately replied with, “Very well, then. As I have always made clear, I am not a villain, so we can discuss the matter more in the future.”

A quirked eyebrow indicated that the young woman expected there was a catch to the director’s generosity; but in Bradford’s eyes, this meeting had been put on hold long enough. He gave her a pointed look that silently told her that they could discuss the issue privately, after the meeting was adjourned, and that seemed enough to satisfy her for now.

“Any other interruptions?” Bradford asked, glancing around the table for answers, direct or implied. Heron, Blot, and Steelbeak all seemed ready to continue – though whether the rooster would actually pay attention was another question; while Gandra’s focus seemed split between the egg on her lap and Bradford, and Rockerduck was busy rocking a now fussy baby Jeeves in an attempt to get him to sleep.

Bradford sighed; all things considered, he supposed this was the best he could ask for, for now.

As he resumed the meeting, he took a brief glance over at Gandra, making a mental note to keep an even closer eye on her activities on the FOWL servers…as well as look into the other network that she was connecting with so often. He had a feeling that would be very useful information to have in store for the future…especially now that it seemed that she had other priorities besides their mission to put an end to adventuring.

#DuckTales 2017 #Bradford Buzzard #Gandra Dee #John D Rockerduck #Baby Jeeves #Black Heron #Steelbeak #Phantom Blot #Rockerdad #Background Fendra #Fendra #DuckTales Fanfic

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buckybarnesdollface · 4 years ago

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Traditions: Chapter 2

Summary: Some old Christmas traditions lead to new traditions.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, female reader

I knew even before I opened my eyes that I wasn’t waking up in my bed. My head was pillowed on something solid and warm, and I blinked open my eyes to see that I was stretched out on the couch and my head was resting on Bucky’s stomach. Sometime during our late-night conversation, I must have dozed off, as had Bucky, but not before he’d draped the blanket from the back of the couch over me. He had slumped against the couch cushions, legs outstretched and feet resting on the ottoman. A warm hand rested lightly on my hip over the blanket, and my own hand – embarrassingly – was gripping his thigh.

Horrified, I tried to extract myself from this awkward position without waking Bucky, but my efforts were in vain – With a soft sigh and a shift of his body, Bucky’s hand squeezed my hip lightly, sending a jolt through my body.

“Mornin', doll,” his voice rumbled from above me, still thick with sleep. “Guess neither of us made it to our beds.”

I pushed myself up off of him, leaning back into the couch cushions and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Bucky was watching me with his bottom lip tugged between his teeth, eyes still heavy with sleep, and I felt my stomach do a flip. I dropped my gaze to my hands and cleared my throat before speaking.

“When…when did I fall asleep?”

“Around quarter after three. We were talking and the next thing I looked down and you were asleep.” He grinned ruefully. “You looked so cozy all snuggled up against me; I didn’t want to wake you by moving you, so I covered you with the blanket and let you sleep. I guess I must have dozed off not long after that.”

My cheeks were flaming by this point. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “That couldn’t have been very comfortable for you –”

Bucky cut me off. “Actually, I slept great,” he said. “Falling asleep next to a warm fire and a Christmas tree, with a pretty dame curled up against me? What more could a guy want?” He waggled his eyebrows at me playfully, and my eyes widened before narrowing at him.

“Asshole,” I grumbled, swatting at his chest. He laughed and shook his head.

“I’m only messin’ with ya, (Y/N),” he chuckled. “For the record, though, it wasn’t the worst sleep I’ve ever had. In fact, it was probably one of the better ones. It was peaceful; no nightmares.”

At this I couldn’t help but smile. “Good,” I murmured. “Now c’mon, I need coffee. Maybe we can sneak some of those molasses cookies, too.”

But there would be no sneaking anything. Both my parents and Katie and Jeremy were all in the kitchen when Bucky and I shuffled our way in. My cheeks were on fire and I ducked my head. Even Bucky was blushing as four pairs of eyes landed on us.

“Finally decided to get up, huh?” my dad taunted.

“We fell asleep talking,” I grumbled. Jeremy and Katie snickered and I shot them a glare.

“You never could resist sneaking downstairs to fall asleep by the tree,” my mom said. “Your father and I used to have to carry you back up to your bed.” She handed mugs of coffee to both Bucky and I, and although her smile was warm her hazel eyes sparkled with something more. I frowned and lifted the mug to my lips.

“Busy day today,” my dad said. “Make sure you’re ready to leave by three-thirty.”

As was tradition, we were going to my grandparents’ place for Christmas Eve dinner. We spent the rest of the morning watching Home Alone, and then I disappeared upstairs to shower and get ready.

An hour later, I had tamed my curls, put on a full face of makeup and donned a black-and-red dress. I checked the mirror and touched up my red lipstick before stepping out into the hall and colliding with a really large, really solid body.

“Sorry!” I squeaked at the same time that one warm and one cool hand steadied me. I looked up to see Bucky regarding me with his lips slightly quirked up.

“You should watch where you’re going, doll,” he teased as his hands released my arms. “If you’re not careful you’ll end up hurting yourself.”

I glared at him half-heartedly. “I didn’t expect to run into a goddamn brick wall coming out of my room,” I quipped. “What are you doing outside my door?”

Bucky blushed. “I was waiting for you,” he said. “I, uh…”

He trailed off, and he didn’t have to finish for me to understand what he was getting at. He was nervous about meeting my grandparents and my aunts and uncles. I gave him an encouraging smile and took his hand into mine.

“So far everyone in my family loves you; it’ll be fine,” I assured him, and then I grinned. “Plus, I’m pretty sure my grandmother is making lasagna.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean the lasagna? The stuff you always bragged to the team about?”

“The one and only.”

“I hope she’s made lots, then,” Bucky said, patting his stomach. “I can eat a crazy amount of lasagna.”

“Don’t worry,” I teased, “I already warned everyone to prepare; I told them that a supersoldier’s appetite is like a dog with the munchies.”

Bucky gave me an indignant look. “Way to make me look good,” he said wryly, and I shrugged.

“It’s the truth. Between you and Steve, it’s amazing there’s even any food left in the compound for the rest of us. And don’t even get me started on how much it must cost Tony when the team orders takeout –”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Bucky snorted, dragging me towards the stairs. I grinned mischievously at him, a grin he returned with sparkling eyes.

The minute we stepped into my grandparents’ house it was a flurry of hugs and a chorus of “How have you been?”, as well as a multitude of other questions and exclamations from family members, many of whom I hadn’t seen since last Christmas. As Katie, Jeremy and I got caught up with everyone and my parents went to help my grandparents prepare dinner and get everyone drinks, Bucky stood awkwardly in the doorway of the porch. Finally, my aunt Maureen noticed him over my shoulder and she arched a perfectly-shaped eyebrow.

“And who is this handsome young man?” she asked, and I had to stifle a snort because even though Bucky looked young enough to be her son, he was actually old enough to be her grandfather. I could tell Bucky knew what I was thinking from the way his dark eyebrows pulled together only slightly at me, but he plastered on a smile as I tugged him forward.

“This is Bucky,” I announced, one hand resting on his arm to hopefully help ease the nerves I knew he still felt. “He’s a friend from work.”

“Ah,” my grandfather said on his way by after having grabbed a beer from the fridge. “It’s about time you brought a boyfriend to meet us. I was beginning to wonder if I’d live to see it.”

My cheeks flushed crimson, and I immediately let go of Bucky’s arm as I shook my head vigorously. “No, he’s not my boyfriend,” I stuttered. “He’s a friend from work. He didn’t have plans for Christmas so I invited him to spend it with us.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at Bucky. My grandfather huffed before taking his beer to the sitting room, and Maureen leaned in to whisper, “You’d do good to make him more than a friend, he’s very good-looking.”

By now I was sure I was the colour of a tomato. Without having to look I knew Bucky was trying and failing at concealing a smirk – His supersoldier ears would have picked up Maureen’s comments with ease.

Needing a drink, I ducked past everyone and poured myself a glass of wine. After Maureen had finished fawning over Bucky and grilling him with questions, he migrated over to the corner of the kitchen I had chosen to nurse my drink.

“Your aunt is…” he started, and I cut him off.

“She’s only my aunt by marriage,” I corrected. “She’s my uncle’s second wife.” I took a swig of my wine. “But yes, she can be hard to take in more than small doses.”

“I was going to say talkative.”

I snorted. “That’s an understatement.” I lifted my glass. “Do you want a drink? We have plenty; there’s never a shortage of booze in this family.”

“You know alcohol does nothing to me, right?” Bucky said, one eyebrow cocked, and I shrugged.

“You could still have one in the spirit of the season. Beer or wine?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched at the corners. “Beer,” he finally said, and I grabbed one from the fridge. He murmured a “thanks” as he popped the cap off with a flick of his thumb and lifted the bottle to his lips. I waited for him to swallow before I spoke, tracing my fingers over the rim of my wine glass.

“I’m sorry about my grandfather,” I mumbled, and Bucky snorted.

“Don’t be,” he told me. “That was kind of savage, though. I get the impression it’s a subject that he brings up a lot?”

I frowned, downing the rest of my wine. “Every family gathering,” I muttered. “It’s always ‘why are you still single’ or ‘when are you going to get a boyfriend’. Both Katie and Jeremy have brought home people; my grandparents probably think there’s something wrong with me.”

“What, there’s not?” Bucky taunted, and when I glared at him, he laughed.

“Shut up.”

“I’m only kidding, (Y/N).” He cocked his head at me thoughtfully. “Is there any particular reason you haven’t brought anyone home before, though?”

I shrugged, my cheeks pink. “I dunno. There was just never anyone I liked enough to bring home, I guess,” I said, and Bucky nodded.

“Well,” he said after a minute, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Of all the things I’ve ever been called, your boyfriend certainly isn’t the worst.”

My stomach did a flip, and I couldn’t conceal my grin as I poured myself another glass of wine. “C’mon,” I chuckled, nudging him towards the sitting room. “Let’s go socialize before any rumours start.”

It was an evening full of good food and good company. My family, god bless them, welcomed Bucky as if he were one of their own – They included him in conversations, were genuinely interested in learning about him without breaching subjects that would make him uncomfortable, and by the time dessert was served it was as if he had been a part of our Christmas dinners for years. I saw a side of Bucky that I rarely saw except with Steve; he was carefree and charming and the happiest I’d seen him around a group of people he hardly knew.

Right now, he was in the middle of animatedly telling a story about him and Steve back in the thirties to my family. I had heard the story a few times already, but it had always been told from Steve’s perspective with Bucky offering a couple of details to fill in the blanks – To hear Bucky tell it was something else entirely. I sat next to him, my chin resting on my knuckles and a smile quirking my lips up as I watched him speak.

“And so we ended up having to ride in the back of a freezer truck all the way from Rockaway Beach back to Brooklyn because we blew our train money on hot dogs,” he exclaimed, earning him a chorus of laughter from around the table. My dad cocked an eyebrow.

“You spent all the money you had on hot dogs?” he asked incredulously, and Bucky’s grin was mischievous. I couldn’t help but grin myself, knowing this part of the story all too well.

“Not exactly,” he replied. “As Steve often likes to remind me, I blew three dollars on some silly carnival game trying to win a stuffed bear for a girl I never saw again.”

The men at the table all nodded as if in understanding, and the women shook their heads and chuckled.

“So, what does three dollars back in the thirties equal nowadays?” my grandfather asked out of curiosity. Bucky’s cheekiness faltered, and I smirked; this was my favourite part of the story.

“Around fifty-six dollars,” he mumbled sheepishly, and the table howled with laughter. Bucky hung his head in mock embarrassment, but the corners of his lips twitched.

The coffee percolator dinged from the kitchen, signalling the coffee was ready. My grandmother was about to get up but I shook my head and stood first. “I’ll get it,” I offered, but she looked uncertain.

“You can’t carry it all in by yourself,” she protested, but then Bucky was standing as well.

“I’ll help her,” he said, and I shot him a grateful smile of thanks as he followed me out to the kitchen.

“Can you bring the sugar and cream in?” I asked, gesturing to the small china dishes on the kitchen table before pulling some mugs out of the cupboard and setting them on the table for Bucky to get when he came back. I grabbed the coffee pot and a trivet to take to the dining room, but as I rounded the corner I nearly collided with Bucky. His hands reached out to steady me before I could spill the scalding coffee all over the both of us.

“Easy there, doll,” Bucky chuckled, and I blushed.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, and he was just about to step out of the way to let me through when my grandfather spoke up.

“No you don’t, not so fast,” he said. “It’s bad luck not to kiss under the mistletoe.”

Confusion wrinkled my brow, and both mine and Bucky’s gazes drifted up. Sure enough, hung from the top of the doorframe was a small cluster of green leaves and red berries, tied together with a shiny red bow. I groaned inwardly and rolled my eyes, shaking my head.

“Nope, not doing that,” I said quickly. “No one else has kissed under this tonight, so neither are we.”

“Your grandfather and I did just before dinner,” my grandmother exclaimed, and I pursed my lips.

“C’mon, (Y/N); you know we don’t break Christmas traditions in this family,” my uncle taunted, grinning wickedly. Fighting the urge to once again roll my eyes, I looked nervously at Bucky. He only shrugged, as if to say, “Let’s just do it so they’ll stop harassing us.”

“Fine,” I finally sighed, and Bucky’s eyes widened just a fraction before he leaned in and pressed a barely-there peck to my mouth. When he straightened, I cleared my throat and was just about to move past him when three separate voices “boo”-ed us from the table.

“You call that a kiss?” Katie snorted, and I shot her the deadliest glare I could muster. She only smirked in response.

“Katie’s right,” my grandfather said. “A man that would spend that much money trying to impress a girl surely knows how to kiss one.”

I opened my mouth to protest, positive my grandfather had crossed a line, but before any sound could come out Bucky’s hands were on my waist as he gathered me to him, covering my mouth with his.

The first thing I noticed was that Bucky’s lips were softer than I had expected, like velvet moving against my own lips. He tasted like apple pie and gingerbread, and I could feel my eyes drifting closed as I fell into the kiss. His hands tightened just the slightest bit on my waist, causing my heart rate to pick up, and the next thing I knew I could feel the handle of the coffee pot slipping from my fingers and I jerked back from Bucky, tightening the grip on the handle before I’d have to clean up coffee and broken glass off the hardwood floor.

“The mugs,” I mumbled, brought back to reality. My cheeks and chest were burning and I couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, least of all Bucky’s.

“Right, the mugs,” Bucky mumbled, ducking into the kitchen.

I could feel everyone’s eyes on Bucky and I for the remainder of dinner. When it came time to go back to my parents’ place, I was relieved.

My grandmother stopped me on my way out the door. “You know,” she said, “according to the Germans, if you kiss someone under the mistletoe it means you’re bound to end up living a long and happy life together.”

My cheeks were red and my stomach did a flip. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gram,” I mumbled, and her eyes sparkled as she closed the door behind me.

Back at home, everyone settled down in the living room to relax and get comfortable after stuffing themselves with food at dinner. I had just poured myself a glass of eggnog and was about to join them when Bucky’s hand circled lightly around my wrist.

“Can we talk for a minute?” he asked, and my heart hammered against my ribcage as my gaze involuntarily flickered to his lips. I had no idea what was wrong with me; Bucky was my friend. I wasn’t supposed to want him to kiss me. I cursed my grandparents and their damned mistletoe.

“Um, yeah,” I finally said weakly. Bucky released my wrist to run a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and my brow furrowed.

“What the hell are you sorry about?” I asked. “I’m the one who should be apologizing; my family was way out of line…”

To my surprise Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “They meant well. I just…” He trailed off, face sheepish. “I’m scared that maybe I crossed a line.”

My eyes widened. “Buck, no,” I assured him quickly. “I was a little caught off-guard, that’s all.”

Bucky gave me a rueful smile. “That’s your grandfather’s fault. I, uh…I may have let my pride get the better of me. I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips, and Bucky cocked a dark eyebrow at me as his mouth quirked up on one side.

“What’s so funny, doll?”

“Just that apparently even supersoldiers feel the need to prove their masculinity,” I teased. Bucky’s cheeks were tinted pink, but he shrugged.

“Couldn’t let everyone think I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Trust me, Buck; anyone that takes one look at you will not doubt your capability for even a second.”

Bucky gave me a hesitant smile. “So you’re alright?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Of all the things that have ever happened to me,” I told him, “that certainly wasn’t the worst.”

The answering smile he gave me was adorable, a mix between smug and shy, and his blue eyes sparkled. I jerked my head towards the living room.

“Come on,” I urged. “I have a surprise for you.”

Once Bucky was settled into his place on the loveseat, I pulled a book from the bookshelf and sat down in the armchair across from him. My dad turned off the TV, and Bucky’s brow creased as he regarded me with confusion. I winked playfully at him before opening the book to the first page.

“Marley was dead, to begin with,” I read. “There is no doubt whatever about that.”

I looked up to see Bucky’s face light up, and I grinned before turning my attention back to the book.

Once I’d read the entire story, everyone decided it was time to go to bed. As I was sliding the book back onto the shelf, Bucky set a hand on my arm. I turned around to find him looking at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Did you do that for me?” he asked softly, and I shrugged nonchalantly.

“Just because you’re spending Christmas with my family doesn’t mean it can’t reflect your family’s Christmas as well,” I replied. “I know how much it meant to you, and when I mentioned it to my family, they thought it was a great idea.” I bit my lip. “You liked it? It wasn’t…presumptuous, or weird?”

The next thing I knew I was being pulled into a hug. “It was perfect,” Bucky murmured as he pulled away from me. “Thank you, (Y/N). Truly.”

I gave him a cheerful smile. “You’re welcome. Now let’s get to bed or Santa won’t stop here.”

Try as I might, though, I couldn’t fall asleep. My mind was wide awake, replaying what had happened after dinner on a loop. The way Bucky’s hands had been so sure when pulling me to him, and the way his velvet lips had worked me into a dizzy haze right in front of an entire room of my family…

I let out a huff of frustration. Bucky and I were friends. I’d never had more than platonic feelings for him, not until…Well, until I’d brought him home to spend Christmas with me. Maybe that was all it was, though; Christmas to me had always been the most romantic time of year, and I had always spent it alone. Maybe having Bucky here with me made me feel less lonely, and the feelings would go away once the holidays were over.

That did nothing, however, to quell the ache I had right now to feel those lips on me again.

“Fuck,” I groaned, louder than I’d intended, and then I rolled over dramatically and aggressively fluffed my pillows to try and get comfortable. I had barely settled when a soft knock sounded on my door.

I sat up, hesitating. “Come in,” I finally said, and the door creaked open slowly to reveal Bucky, clad in gray sweatpants and a tight black t-shirt. His frame filled the doorway, and I could see in the soft light of the Christmas lights my mother had strung in the window that his brow was furrowed.

“I…I heard you groan,” he told me, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I came to check if you were okay.”

When he lifted his arm his shirt rode up, exposing a sliver of skin and those perfectly-crafted abs of his. My tongue darted out to wet my lips involuntarily and I could feel the blood rise in my cheeks.

“I, uh…I can’t sleep,” I mumbled, and Bucky shook his head.

“Me, either.”

I frowned. “Is it your family again? Bucky, if I upset you with that story –”

“No, doll, it’s nothing like that,” he said quickly. All of a sudden, a sheepish grin spread across his face. “I was…I was actually thinking about how I’d actually let your grandfather goad me on like that earlier.”

“Bucky…” My blush deepened and I shook my head. “We already went over this; you don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Oh, but I think I do.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “Can I come in?”

“Yes,” I said weakly, before my brain knew what I was doing. Bucky stepped into the room and closed the door quietly behind him before coming to hesitantly sit on the edge of my mattress. I sat up straighter and pulled my legs in to give him more room, all the while my heart pounding so hard against my ribs I was sure he could hear it. He licked his lips before continuing, and I couldn’t help that my gaze was drawn to his mouth, where it lingered until he spoke.

“When your grandfather made that comment,” he said, “it was…it was like a switch had been flipped inside of me. Ever since you brought me home to meet your family all I’d wanted was for them to accept me as a human being, as someone normal and functioning and someone they wanted to have around during their Christmas celebrations, but…” He shook his head and smiled ruefully. “The more time I spent around you and your family, and got to know the (Y/N) that grew up in this house, the more I realized that I not only wanted them to like me, but I wanted them to like me for you.”

Bucky was looking at me from under the thick fringe of his eyelashes, nerves etched into his features. I blinked, trying to process what he’d just said. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat had gone dry and it came out raspy.

“What…what are you saying, Buck?”

“I’m saying,” he murmured, “that when your grandfather challenged me to kiss you it spurred something inside of me. All of a sudden, I had the urge to prove to them, to you and to myself that I was good enough for you. He offered me a chance to stake my claim on you, and I seized it all too eagerly.” Bucky shook his head, cheeks tinted pink. “No, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean to make it sound like you’re mine to take, you aren’t property –”

But he didn’t get to finish his sentence, because I was on my knees and pressing a finger to his lips to silence him. His eyes widened, but I wasn’t about to let him continue until I had some questions answered.

“You…Were you trying to get my family’s approval?” I breathed in disbelief. Cheeks ruddy, Bucky nodded, but I continued before he could even open his mouth. “So that kiss…That wasn’t just because of the mistletoe?”

“No,” Bucky murmured, voice soft but firm. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since you took my hand on the plane and told me not to worry about everyone staring at me.”

My insides melted, and I bit my lip. “Why didn’t you?” I whispered, and he gave me a small smile.

“It would have drawn even more attention to me,” he chuckled, and then he cast his eyes downward. “And I…We were going to be spending the next week together with your parents, and I didn’t want them to hate me.”

My brow furrowed. “Hate you? Why the hell would they hate you?”

“Because I was either going to be the guy that came on to you on the plane and ruined your Christmas vacation by making it awkward, or I was going to be the guy that your parents would never approve of because of all the horrible things I’ve done.”

Bucky’s eyes were swimming with sadness, and I felt a lump form in my throat, angry at the world for making such a kind, selfless, beautiful man hate himself so much that he believed other people should hate him too. Narrowing my eyes, I crawled across the bed until I was kneeling in front of him. I took his chin between my fingers and thumb, his stubble scratchy against my fingertips, and directed his eyes to mine.

“Bucky Barnes,” I said in an even voice, “are you trying to tell me that you don’t think you’re good enough for me?”

“I’m not,” he mumbled. “You come from a world of family dinners and unconditional love and ridiculously cheesy and charming holiday traditions. And I…” He swallowed hard and pulled away from my grasp to avert his eyes. “I come from a world of murder and torture and fear. We aren’t the same, (Y/N). And I can’t keep pretending we are.”

Well, this was certainly not how I’d pictured this conversation going. I glared at him. “Why do you have to pretend?” I demanded. “That kiss sure as hell wasn’t pretend. For the love of god, Buck, would you let yourself be happy for once? You don’t come from all that tragedy; you came from a family with the same values as mine. Just because it was a long time ago doesn’t make it any less true.” I allowed him a small smile. “And for the record, my family adores you. They think you’re charming and kind and a delight to be around. They’re all very happy you’re spending Christmas with us.”

Bucky lifted his head, hope flickering in his blue eyes. “And you…?” he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I decided to take the plunge. I licked my lips, eyes holding his as I spoke. “Well,” I murmured, my voice husky, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss since it happened, if I’m being honest. It’s what kept me awake, thinking about how I wished my entire family hadn’t been watching so we could have kept going…”

I trailed off, watching the heavy rise and fall of Bucky’s chest with every breath he took. There was conflict in his eyes.

“(Y/N)…”

My name was a groan on his lips, and it sent a shiver down my spine and heat straight to my core. He needed this and I needed him. And soon, before I exploded.

“Stake your claim on me, James,” I whispered. “Take me, make me yours. Please.” I took his hands and set them on my waist, where they’d been hours before. “Let me show you that I belong to you and only you.”

A low growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest, and his fingers tightened on my waist. He tugged me with ease into his lap, my legs straddling his, and though his eyes were dark when he looked up at me, they were also soft.

“Do you really want this?” he murmured quietly, and I reached up to take his face between my hands.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life.”

That was all the confirmation Bucky needed. He captured my lips in his and it was as if someone had tossed oil onto the already-blazing fire inside me. My hands drifted from his face to tangle in his hair, pulling myself closer to him as our mouths fought for dominance. As the kiss deepened, I wondered why I had gone so long without kissing him; it was like up until now I had been breathing through a filter, and now that his lips were on mine, he was breathing life into me in pure, unfiltered quantities until my head was spinning with the onslaught.

“Bucky,” I gasped, pulling away for oxygen. Bucky ducked his head to nuzzle it against my throat, peppering soft kisses along the delicate skin there. I tilted my head back to allow him better access, and the kisses became sloppier and open-mouthed as he made his way down to my breastbone.

“Promise I’m gonna make you feel so good, doll,” he murmured into my skin. “Gonna worship you like the goddess you are.”

His words had me trembling in his arms as a fresh wave of heat shot right to my core. I would have never pegged Bucky as the vocal type in bed, but the deep, husky timbre of his voice had me as aroused as his hands and lips did.

“Too many clothes,” I mumbled, my hands sliding underneath Bucky’s t-shirt so my fingertips could dance along the hard wall of muscle. His breath hitched, and then he was pulling the t-shirt over his head with one hand while the other hand yanked at the hem of my own t-shirt. I lifted my arms, and then we were both bare from the waist up. Bucky’s eyes darkened and his tongue darted out to wet his lips as his gaze landed on my breasts. In any other circumstance, I would have felt self-conscious under such scrutiny, but Bucky was regarding me with such rapt reverence that the way his eyes drank me in only added to the arousal between my thighs.

When his hands gripped the bare flesh of my waist electricity shot through me, and when his hot mouth enveloped one of my nipples and tugged it gently between his teeth my back arched into him and I let out an obscene moan.

Bucky’s mouth immediately released me, and he pulled back. His lips were set in a frown but his blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “As much as I love hearing those pretty little sounds spill from your lips,” he murmured, “you have to be quiet, doll, or this will be over before it even starts. Can’t have your parents knowing I’m about to ruin their little girl for every other man while under their roof.”

“Fuck, Bucky,” I groaned softly, aching to have some of the pressure between my thighs relieved.

“That’s the plan, doll,” he taunted. “You just gotta be patient.”

A wicked grin flashed across his face, and I huffed in annoyance.

“Dammit, Bucky, if you don’t touch me right now, I’m gonna have to take care of things myself.”

To my satisfaction, Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise. His jaw tightened and he licked his lips before his hands on my waist tightened. “As much as I’d like to see that,” he murmured, “I promised to take good care of you. And I intend to keep that promise.”

The next thing I knew I was flat on my back on the mattress and Bucky was yanking my pants and underwear down my legs and tossing them somewhere across the room, leaving me completely bare to him. He grinned up at me from between my legs and my breath caught in my throat. Looking as wrecked as I already felt, he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

He began planting open-mouthed kisses on the insides of my thighs that quickly turned into biting and sucking. I knew there would be marks there come morning, but I would wear them proudly; a reminder that I was his and that he was about to give me the best night of my life.

When his mouth finally made its way to my aching heat, I had to bite my lip hard to keep from crying out. As his tongue swiped along my folds my hips bucked up into him and he chuckled against me as his arms wound around my hips to hold me firmly to the mattress.

“Easy, doll; awfully eager, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice languid as he skimmed his nose along my skin. My breaths were coming out short and shallow and I pressed my head back into the pillows, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Please, Buck,” I begged shamelessly. I could feel him grin against my thigh, and then his lips wrapped around my clit and sucked hard, and it took everything in me not to scream out his name as my back arched away from my mattress. My fingers tangled in Bucky’s hair, pulling him closer, and he growled into me. The vibrations, as well as the purely primal sound it made coming from deep in his throat, had me keening and dripping with need.

Bucky’s mouth worked over me like he was a man starved. The more his tongue and lips licked and sucked, the tighter the coil in my belly got as I writhed beneath him. When I finally reached my peak, my mouth fell open in a silent scream and my grip on Bucky’s hair tightened, nails scraping against his scalp. He brought me down from my high with gentle kisses, and then his arms loosened from around my hips so he could slide up my body and press his lips to mine. I could taste myself on his tongue.

“Jesus Christ…” I breathed, trying to recover after what he had just done to me. Bucky’s grin was sinful and his eyes sparkled.

“It’s Bucky, actually,” he said lightly. “Although if I still had my long hair, I could see how you could be mistaken.”

“Oh, shut up,” I grumbled, and then I was up and pushing him onto his back. He stared up at me with wide, startled eyes as I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. I leaned in to kiss him hard, and then pulled away to kiss the hollow of his throat as my fingertips trailed down the hot skin of his torso. My lips soon followed, and then I was peppering kisses just above the low-hanging waistband of his sweatpants. The gray cotton material was tented, doing nothing to hide how aroused he was.

“What do we have here, soldier?” I said teasingly, fingers slowly peeling back the waistband. I peered up to see him watching me, hungry eyes unblinking as his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. When his cock sprang free from its confines, I couldn’t help but lick my lips – Oh, this was going to be fun.

I took his length into my hand, revelling in the velvety-smooth, hot feel of it, solid and practically throbbing against my palm. I gave it a couple of experimental pumps and Bucky let out a soft groan.

“(Y/N)…”

“Quiet, soldier, remember?” I taunted. Bucky’s eyes flashed, and then with a wicked smirk I leaned in to lick a stripe up along his length. A low hiss passed through his clenched teeth, and when I took him as far into my mouth as I could I could see the muscle in his jaw twitch as his eyes blazed like blue fire.

“Fuck, baby girl, that feels so good,” he grunted out as my head bobbed up and down along his length. I hollowed out my cheeks and sucked hard, one hand wrapped around what I couldn’t fit in my mouth and the other on his thigh, nails digging into solid muscle. Bucky cursed under his breath, and then to my confusion his hand traced along my jaw before sliding under my chin to pull me away from him.

“What –” I started, but he cut me off.

“As amazing as that felt, doll, when I come I wanna be inside you.”

His words had me dripping with anticipation, and I let out a soft whimper as he pulled me up his body until I was once again straddling his hips. I shifted, sliding my soaked folds along his throbbing length and we both let out quiet groans. Unable to wait any longer, I reached behind me and took him in my hand, lining him up with my entrance.

Bucky’s hands on my hips tugged me down until he was fully sheathed in my wet heat. I fell forward, hands planted on his chest to support myself, and squeezed my eyes shut as I adjusted to how he stretched my walls in ways I’d never been stretched out before. I rolled my hips into his experimentally, and Bucky’s hands tightened on my flesh.

Using my hands on him as leverage, I began to rock myself against him, feeling the way his cock deliciously dragged against every square millimetre of my insides. We quickly fell into a rhythm, him thrusting up to meet me every time I slid down. My nails scratched jagged red lines into his chest as his fingers dug bruises into my hips, our breaths coming out ragged as we fought to keep any noises that could alert the rest of the household to our actions from spilling out of our lips.

It didn’t take long for the coil to once again tighten in my belly. Bucky’s thrusts were sharp and precise, hitting all the right spots, and his hands had begun to roam over my body, kneading the soft flesh of my curves.

“Buck, I’m…” I started, but was rendered breathless when all of a sudden Bucky had flipped us over so I was on my back and he was on top of me, his length still firmly sheathed in my heat. This position provided a new angle, and my legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist as he bent down to kiss me roughly.

“I’ve got you, baby girl,” he rasped, nuzzling his face into the juncture between my neck and shoulder as he drove into me relentlessly. My nails raked down his back, the other hand carding though his hair and holding him to me. I was close, so close, and he knew it. “It’s okay, doll, I’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to my throat. “Let go, I’ll take care of you. Let go for me, baby girl.”

That did it. I could feel my walls fluttering around Bucky’s length as he drew my second orgasm of the night out of me. I couldn’t stop the quiet gasp that escaped my lips as the coil in me snapped, and my own climax must have brought on Bucky’s because I could feel him throbbing, hot and hard against my fluttering walls, and then his seed was coating my insides as he stilled over me with a muffled grunt.

Being the first to break out of the post-orgasm haze, Bucky lifted his head from my shoulder and gave me a soft, lingering kiss. I hummed contentedly, hugging him close to me, and he chuckled before scooping his arms around me and shifting our bodies so I was snuggled against him and the blankets were pulled around us.

“Well, you certainly made sure this would be a Christmas to remember,” Bucky murmured, brushing a damp lock of hair from my face. I giggled, and then turned my head to press my lips to his chest as my fingertips brushed along his abdomen.

“What can I say, I always keep good on my word.” I yawned, unable to fight off the exhaustion I felt. “You wore me out, soldier,” I mumbled, and a quiet laugh rumbled from his chest.

“Get some sleep, doll,” he murmured. “We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

I hugged myself closer to him. “You’ll stay with me?”

A soft kiss on the crown of my head, and arms circling protectively around me. “Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere, doll.”

I woke up early the next morning. The sun had barely begun to light up the sky, and snowflakes drifted lazily outside the window. Bucky was warm and solid behind me, and when I stretched out my body languidly his vibranium hand slid across my belly and down, parting my thighs to ghost feather-light touches over my still-sensitive sex.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he murmured, lips against the delicate skin behind my ear as his cool fingers swept lightly through my already-gathering wetness. I let out a quiet whine and pressed back into him, his body fitting along the length of mine and his erection hard against my backside. I wiggled my hips teasingly and felt him twitch.

“Mmm, Merry Christmas,” I hummed, and then spread my legs further so he could slide into me. We made love, slow and sensual, as the snow fell outside and the sky lightened, and when we both came undone at the same time Bucky’s name fell from my lips in a whispered prayer. We stayed that way a couple of minutes, spooning and still joined together, until we agreed that everyone else would soon be getting up to open presents.

We already had coffee brewed by the time everyone else came downstairs. My dad donned his Santa hat and then we all gathered around the Christmas tree to open the gifts.

“To (Y/N), from James,” my dad said, handing me a box wrapped in shiny red paper with a green bow. I shot Bucky an inquiring look as I took the box from my dad but he only shrugged, a twinkle in his eyes as he drained the last of his coffee.

Curious, I carefully tore away the wrapping paper to reveal a copy of Sherlock Holmes, the cover cracked and the pages yellowed with age. I looked up at Bucky, eyes wide.

“Is this…?” I started to say, and he nodded, beaming.

“A first edition,” he finished, and then his smile turned sheepish. “I know how much you love books and you love antiques, and Wanda told me Sherlock Holmes was your favourite…”

“Bucky, it’s perfect,” I breathed sincerely, feeling tears in the corners of my eyes. “I love it. Thank you.”

Bucky seemed pleased with himself. “Anything for you, doll,” he murmured, and I blushed.

After all the gifts had been unwrapped and the floor was littered with wrapping paper and bows, everyone migrated to the fireplace to see what was in their stockings. I hung back, and grinned when Bucky’s eyes landed on the one labelled “Bucky” and he shot me a confused look.

“I didn’t hang a stocking,” he said, brow furrowed, and I shrugged.

“Just look inside.”

He did as I said, and when he pulled out an orange and a tin of chocolates the most brilliant smile lit up his face. His eyes were brimming with emotion as he lifted them to meet mine.

“(Y/N)…” he whispered, and then he was gathering me into his arms and hugging me tightly. When we pulled apart his eyes shone. “Thank you,” he said, “for everything. If it weren’t for you, I would still be alone at the compound and would have missed out on the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

My heart swelled, and I reached up to cup his warm face in my hands, my thumbs tracing his cheekbones. “Guess you’ll just have to spend every Christmas here with me,” I told him, and he grinned.

“Sounds like a plan to me, doll.”

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